


THE BODYGUARD

by writingcreature



Series: Warzone/Paradise Chronicles [7]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Danny, Banter, Cargument, Danny "Danno" Williams Whump, Friends to Lovers, Hacking, Humor, Lies, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Secrets, Steve McGarrett & Danny "Danno" Williams Friendship, Steve McGarrett whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-01-21 23:38:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12468528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingcreature/pseuds/writingcreature
Summary: Ex-Navy-SEAL Steve McGarrett, now working for SOG (Special Operations Group), gets a new assignment after he almost died when he and his team were ambushed by a Boko Haram splinter group in Tanzania.Still dealing with the aftermath of the incident Steve is not very fond of his new job as a babysitter for professor Danny Williams, a cranky astrophysicist and math genius. What seemed to be the most boring job of his life turns into a thrill ride as the professor is on a mission of his own and not willing to let Steve in on the details. However, both can’t deny that they are heading down a dangerous path when they have to learn that their relationship is much more than strictly business. Without any doubt, this assignment will inevitably plunge them both into jeopardy in more than just one way.





	1. Chapter 1

"With all due respect, Sir, you can't be serious. This is not what I expected after my last assignment. This is ridiculous." Steve fidgeted with the pristine knot of his tie. The damned thing felt like it would choke the air out of his lungs. "I didn't sign up for babysitting some desk jockey. There are others in our agency…" 

"And yet, it is you I chose for this job," his boss Aidan Price said, cutting him short. "With all due respect, Commander," Price mocked him, "it is way too early for you to be back on the job. I have no idea if you bribed your doctors or blackmailed them or what the fuck you did to get this clearance." He stared at the piece of paper right in front of him on his desk and then back at Steve, who held his gaze, though he felt more than uncomfortable under the scrutinizing look of his boss. 

"I did not have to bribe or blackmail anyone. I simply passed all the tests," this was a flat-out lie, but Price would never learn about it. Steve knew one of the doctors from his days back in Afghanistan. The doctor, Martin Brackett, owed him his life. Steve and his team prevented the kidnapping of him, his colleague, and four nurses when the Taliban attacked their transport with medical supplies for DWB. 

Unfortunately, he and his team weren't that lucky when about one and a half years previously, a Boko Haram splinter group had ambushed and abducted them in Tanzania. 

Steve considered the men that were killed on the spot as lucky. Together with the rest of his team, he had been incarcerated in a death camp where they were physically and mentally tortured to elicit information about their activities and to break their spirit. Various physical torture methods were used, including systematic beating aimed at inflicting permanent injuries, unsystematic beating using rifle butts, truncheons, etc., electric torture by applying electrodes to sensitive parts of the body, such as the ears, gums, fingertips, and genitals. When not being interrogated, they were held in solitary confinement and were denied sleep, food, and drink to disorient and weaken them. Steve wondered how he had made it out of this living hell alive, and at the same time, he wished he had died along with his comrades. His psychologist had told him it was all right to remember and that it might even be therapeutic for him, but Steve should only remember and not dwell or fixate on the memories. The doctor had called his problem "survivor's guilt," but he knew it went much deeper because he had not only been the sole survivor; he considered himself responsible for what had happened to the others. He had been their leader. They had followed him blindly and trusted him with his life, and he had let them down miserably. 

"Hey, Steven!" Price snapped his fingers in front of Steve's face as a single tear rolled down the man's cheek. Within an instant, Steve was back in the office. He blinked several times. The fog in his mind lifted slowly. 

Price's voice turned from pissed to deeply concerned, "Are you okay? Where the hell have you been?" Steve closed his eyes briefly and swallowed hard. "Sorry, sir, what did you just say?" It cost all of his strength that his voice obeyed him and to stop shaking like a leaf. 

Sighing, Price returned to his desk and plopped into his comfy leather chair. 

Again, he eyed his subordinate up. "Steven, I'm more concerned than ever. Are you sure you can handle this assignment?" 

Steve wiped his wet palms on his pants and darted out his tongue to moisten his lips, which felt like sandpaper. He could hardly meet Price's gaze. "You're still talking about this babysitting job, aren't you?" 

No reply. 

"Of course, I am sure. But, why me? Why not Axel or Riley? Aren't they your go-to guys in such matters?" 

Steve saw the slight twitch at the left corner of Price's mouth. 

"Ah, now that gave you away," he blurted out. 

Price quirked his brow, "What are you talking about?" 

Steve was back on solid ground and regained his self-demeanor within no time. His mental scars might run deeper than his physical. However, he had not forgotten how to read his boss. 

"It is a poker term, sir. It means …" 

"I know what a tell is," Price waved him off. "What shall I say? Axel threw in the towel after two days and Riley within one week. Both described Professor Williams as Rumpelstiltskin's evil twin." 

Steve barked out a laugh, "Wow, that bad? As far as I remember, Rumpelstiltskin wasn't one of the good guys. How worse must his evil twin be, then?" 

"Margret, my secretary called him Chucky. You know Margret? She is the kindness in person. Professor Williams got to her within ten minutes," Price stated dryly. 

Thoughtfully, Steve gnawed at his lower lip. 

Price put his hands on his desk, entwined his fingers, and leaned forward, "Steven, this is a very delicate job. I'm running out of options. The professor is our only chance to put Dimitri Yegorovich behind bars and throw away the keys, but only if he lives long enough to show up in court in four weeks. I need you and your abilities." 

Steve crossed one leg over the other. Then he smoothed his tie and inhaled a deep, calming breath before he met Price's gaze. "Four weeks? Can't the system work any faster? I mean, isn't there something you or the agency can do to speed up the process? I could put a black ops team together, and we could wipe out Dimitri, quietly. It wouldn't be my first kill-on-demand-job, and you know that. Why go through all the trouble?" 

"This is not just about Yegorovich, Steven. We want to destroy the whole organization – erase it." 

"And Rumpelstiltskin is your secret weapon; one single man? You got to be kidding." 

Price handed him a file. "Read it. It contains all the details you need to know about the professor and the case in general. Remember Valentina Carella? Four agents died before you took over the job. You not only managed to keep the two of you alive throughout the three-month trial, but you also earned her trust and got intel we could've only dreamed of." 

"Yeah because the lady loved to talk after I fucked her brains out on several occasions," Steve added in silence. It was nothing he was proud of, and if it ever came to light, he would be fired for insubordination and God only knew what else. Valentina had been the classic Italian beauty. Dark wavy hair, full lips, perfect breasts (all natural), and endless legs. She fell head over heels for Steve. And he would have been an idiot not to take advantage. Sometimes, rules are meant to be broken. Shortly after the trial, Valentina got into witness protection. He never saw her again. Honestly, he had forgotten about her until Price had brought her name up. 

Steve took the file and opened it. As usual, there was a picture attached to the inside. The guy had slicked-back blond hair and wore glasses. On the first look, Steve would have called him a nerd. He leafed through the papers. Williams had a master's degree in astrophysics and mathematics. He had been teaching at several universities and colleagues across the country. He was single, enjoyed watching French movies, and loved dogs. He was definitely a nerd. 

Steve threw the file back on the table. "Boring. This guy has no real life. He loves his job more than anything else in the world. For the book, he has absolutely nothing in common with Valentina. What did he do to scare Axel and Riley away? Bore them to death?" 

"Find out for yourself. You are going to meet Williams tomorrow at ten o'clock in the morning at the Princeton University in Jersey." 

Steve couldn't help but think that his boss showed sociopathic tendencies from time to time, like right now, because he wore this deeply satisfied look on his face that told Steve he had just gotten screwed. 

"Jersey? You want me to go to Jersey? Well, I'm not sure I'll get a ticket…" 

"Don't worry. The agency is generous in your case. You can take the private jet, and don't worry, you don't have to fly it. You'll be the only passenger on board, and you can enjoy the full program, drinks, food, and movies." 

"Why can't I get rid of the feeling that there is more to this assignment than you have already told me?" Steve insisted. It was fruitless. Price stood, which signaled that their conversation was over. 

He picked up the file and handed it to Steve. "Have a safe trip. Your contact person in our bureau in Jersey is Ian Redding, Hershel's son. He's a newbie but very dedicated and enthusiastic. I'm sure the two of you will get along well." 

Great, the assignment was getting better by the minute. There was an over-eager newbie on one side, and on the other, there was this snarky professor who had already worn out two agents. 

On his way out, Steve passed Margret's desk and stopped, "Chucky? Seriously?" 

Margret gave him an annoyed look over the rim of her glasses, "Commander, you should know better." 

"Come on, Marge, just a little hint. I want to know what I have to deal with when I meet him tomorrow morning." 

"He's an arrogant bastard. And he has some serious issues in dealing with other people." 

"Then he must be the most hated professor on the campus," Steve assumed. 

Margret shook her head. "As long as he was teaching, his students loved him. They spoke highly of him and said that he had been unbelievably charming and supportive. His demeanor changed a lot when he decided to drop teaching and go into research." 

"Why would he do that?" Steve wondered. 

"That's the part of his life that is a haze, a blur, foggy. Call it whatever you want. And as it is not necessary for the upcoming trial, Price gave the order not to dig any deeper. I'm done talking." With that, Margret turned her attention back to the computer screen. 

Later that evening, Steve stepped into the shower and turned the water hot. It sluiced over tanned skin, the tattoos on his left and right upper arms, lean muscles, and some nasty scars. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the tiled wall. The hot spray beat down on his neck and shoulders, working out the knots that had built up there during the day. His body was still aching in places he hadn't even known existed before. 

Steve felt drained, emotionally and physically, and all he had done that day was to get dressed and head to the meeting with Price. He lathered up and rinsed, turned off the shower, and fetched a towel from the shelf next to the stall. After he had toweled himself down, he shrugged into a cozy bathrobe and went over to the kitchen to grab a bottle of beer from the fridge. 

A glance at the watch told him he'd been studying Williams's file for more than one hour. Margret was right; he hadn't found anything useful as to why the professor had chosen research over teaching. Though Price's order was still standing, Steve was determined to find out the reason. It was at least something he could do to occupy himself while he was babysitting. Steve had skimmed through Riley's notes. Nothing out of the ordinary had caught his eye. The professor's daily routine drew a jaw-splitting yawn from him. He put the file aside to rub his tired eyes with the forefinger and the thumb of his right hand. 

No, he was not back in the shape he had been before the incident in Tanzania had shredded his life into pieces because he wasn't the same man anymore. Of course, he still dealt with the aftermath. The nightmares that made him wake up screaming at the top of his lungs hadn't subsided. This was going to be an "exciting" aspect. He wondered what the professor would think about a bodyguard who woke the whole neighborhood in the middle of the night because he relived the horror of his year in imprisonment almost every night. 

Steve had tried a lot of relaxing techniques. Some of them would have worked if he had not been so impatient or self-confident about not needing mental crutches. 

He was not sure how much Price really knew about his current condition. His boss wasn't stupid. He'd seen a lot of shit during his time in the Vietnam War. Steve knew that Price had also lost many comrades along the way, and when Steve was in the hospital recovering, his boss had been at his side for many hours and told him that a part of him had never returned from the battlefield. So they were both damaged. 

At first, Steve had thought that this new assignment was meant as punishment. However, after he had studied the professor's file, he concluded that his boss exactly knew what he was doing. 

Williams was definitely hiding something, and though Price had ordered him not to dig any deeper, he knew that Steve gave a fuck about rules. Maybe the job wasn't going to be that bad, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](http://mycoven.net/index.php?seite=display&img=i449bjyq36)   
> 

Sitting in the cockpit of a Learjet 75, preparing for the final checkup, hearing the engines come to life, and the static crackle in the headphones when you radio the tower for taxi instructions is one thing. Forced to sit in the cabin, twiddling your thumbs, trying to kill time by watching cheesy movies, and sipping at a glass or two of expensive Scotch served in a crystal glass that would feed a family of four for about two months if you sold it, now that was a whole different animal. 

The flight from Hawaii to New Jersey had been bumpy. Usually, Steve loved to fly…when he was in control of all the instruments that provided him with info about current speed, altitude, engine temperature, weather conditions, and all the other stuff one might need to know to get from Point A to Point B. 

So it was no surprise that Steve could not get off the plane fast enough after they landed at Linden Airport in New Jersey. Like the Pope, he wanted to drop to his knees and kiss the ground. Everybody laughed when Steve talked about suffering motion sickness when not driving the car, but the same went for planes. Because he did not want to make a fool of himself, he decided against the dramatic gesture and went straight to the small gate where Agent Ian was already “eagerly” for him. 

The young man welcomed Steve with a warm smile and a firm handshake, "Welcome to Jersey; I trust you had a pleasant flight. My name is Ian Redding. I'll be your contact and will try to meet your needs the best I can." His friendly smile faltered for a fraction of a second. "Now that came out a bit different from what I had in mind," Ian added in a hurry when he saw the amused expression on Steve's face. He stopped in his tracks and put a heavy hand on Ian's shoulder, "The best way to please me, is giving me the car keys. I didn't come here to ride shotgun, and I'm also in control of the radio. Are we clear?" 

Ian nodded, "Yes, sir." 

Steve’s intention was not to sound like an asshole, but after the unpleasant flight, he was in no mood for a round of puking because of the newbie's poor driving skills. Well, to be fair, he didn't know shit about the young man's driving skills, but he hated surprises. He took the car keys from a slightly gaping Ian, slid behind the steering wheel, and fired up the engine. 

"Awaiting your instructions, Agent," Steve quipped and earned a fake smile from Ian. 

"Of course, sir. We have a thirty-mile drive ahead of us. I've uploaded the coordinates to the GPS system. All you have to do…" 

"I prefer the human touch, Ian. I'm old school, you know, and I would rather not have to rely on info coming from an electronic device. I've seen too many fatalities in Afghanistan and Iraq because someone fucked up the coordinates, causing the wrong building or convoy to be blown sky high. Know what we call innocent people who lose their lives in the middle of somebody else’s war? Collateral damage.” 

Ian did not immediately respond. And when Steve glanced sideways, he saw the young man shrinking into the passenger seat. 

He felt a pang of guilt. The young agent may not have had his experience, but he wasn't an idiot, either. Due to a red light, they came to a halt, and Steve found some time to turn his attention from the road to Ian, "Excuse my behavior. I don't want to come across as bossy or as a wiseass. I know you know how to do your job, and I’m pretty certain you know your way around town. As for me, I'm not used to talking to other people anymore…." He let his voice trail off. 

"Commander, don't worry. I know about you and Tanzania. I can't imagine what you and your men went through. It’s truly a miracle that you survived. My job is not to question your abilities. As I said, I'm here to offer my assistance. Given your assignment, you’re going to need all the help you can get. The good professor turned out to be a genuine piece o’ work." 

Steve almost jumped on the brakes. He did not see Ian's face, but there was no need to. From the young agent's voice alone, Steve knew he wasn’t joking. 

"Did you ever meet the professor?" Steve was curious. 

"Nope, I did not have the pleasure. But Axel and Riley's notes speak volumes. Didn't you look at the file?" 

"I knew something was lacking. I knew Price manipulated the whole thing. Dammit. He plunged me headfirst into this disaster, and now it's too late. I'm meetin' Chucky in a few, so it's neither here nor there." 

Ian's brows shot up, "Chucky?! Now that is a new one to me. Who gave the professor this name? 

"Marge, Price's secretary. Geez, dealing with this guy sounds like having a root canal treatment without local anesthesia." 

They drove the rest of the way in silence. After they arrived at the campus, Ian gave Steve a brief description of how and where to find Professor Williams. 

"He was leading an open discussion group about the Big Bang Theory, and quantum-cosmological phenomena in general. He should be back in the lab by now," Ian explained. 

"You already lost me at "Big Bang Theory." All I know is that there is this guy in this show called Sheldon Cooper. I don't even watch it, my nephew does. Nevertheless, I'm certain that that it is in no way related to Williams, who apparently runs his own show." Steve huffed out a sigh, then paused as the rest of Ian’s words hit him. "Wait.  You mean you're not coming with me? You’re leaving me all alone to face this misery?" 

"Sorry, Commander, this is beyond my pay grade," Ian smirked, "The professor is all yours. Like the Lexus. Keep the keys." 

Steve frowned, "Why can't I get over the feeling that I made a deal with the devil?" 

"Oh, I almost forgot. Here are the instructions on how to get to the safe house. Don't worry. The paper is not going to destroy itself within minutes," his younger colleague quipped, "That’s something you have to do. Eat or burn it." He winked at Steve then turned on his heel. 

McGarrett watched him until he was almost out of sight. Then he took a look at the instructions. Along with it, Ian had handed him his business card. It would have been great to have some backup.  Much good a business card would do him right now. 

Steve felt a little lost on the large campus. The place was buzzing with activity. Students strolled along the paths or gathered in groups all over the plaza. Some of them were involved in lively discussions. Steve's head started to throb due to all the noise created by masses of people. He didn’t think he’d ever be comfortable around crowds again.  Moving faster through the crowd, he was careful not to miss any of the signs that guided the way to Professor Rumpelstiltskin. 

After running around like a chicken with its head cut off for a while, he eventually ended up in the lab complex. 

There he flashed his badge to the security in charge, added his name to the visitor's list, and got a visitor's pass in return. "Fifth floor, second door on the left," the guard said, "Elevator B is already waiting for you. Have a good day, Sir." Steve gave him a friendly smile that did not reach his eyes, "You too." 

Seconds later, Steve exited the elevator. When the doors slid close behind him, he felt trapped. The long white hallway ran down the center of the floor with doors and openings on either side. Fluorescent lights were the only light source. In the past, Steve had been to similar facilities. He knew that none of the individual research areas had windows to the outside. This was to protect the secrets that resided on the floor. 

He unpinned the visitor pass from his jacket pocket, slid it over the ID reader, causing the red light to be replaced by a green one. The heads of four men in white lab coats turned curiously in his direction. One of them was Professor Williams. Steve fought the urge to turn on his heel and storm out of the place because he felt like a deer in the headlights. The discomfort must have registered on his face because one of the men gave him a friendly smile and asked, "Can we be of any assistance?" 

Steve forced his brain back into gear, "Good morning, gentlemen. I'm Commander Steve McGarrett. I have an appointment with Professor Williams." Could it be that the blond guy stared daggers at him? 

"Fuck you, Williams. I haven't even started," Steve thought. 

The three lab coats shot questioning looks in the professor's direction who threw his hands in the air. He then shook his head, and instead of speaking, he started to sign. _"This is another attempt of the bureau to convince me that I need somebody to babysit me. I can take care of myself pretty well, dammit."_  

The guy who had welcomed Steve crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head, "Danny, this is not true, and you know it. First, you had a bunch of black roses at your doorstep; then, someone slit all four tires of your Camaro, and last Tuesday a dead rat that had your name on it was delivered to the facility." 

Danny signed erratically, _"Henry, I told you that the rat was an inside joke. It was probably one of my former students or some of the other researchers. And the tires, well, I think that was one of my neighbors for…whatever reason."_  

The conversation went on, and Steve followed it closely while he racked his brain. He did not recall reading anything about physical disabilities in Williams's file. 

"How can you deny that something is terribly wrong since you offered your assistance to track down this Russian mobster?" another colleague of Williams stated dryly. 

 _"How about all of you kiss my ass?"_ Danny signed. _"This is none of your business."_  

"As far as possibly being in danger because of your reckless behavior," Steve chimed in. 

Williams's head jerked in McGarrett's direction. If looks could kill, Steve would be dead on the floor by now. _"How come you know sign language?"_ Danny wanted to know. 

"My team and I used it for silent communication," Steve said and signed at the same time. 

 _"Then you must have had a glitch in your communication. Didn't you lead your men into a trap with open eyes? Or was it because you live every moment on the verge of death, addicted to the adrenaline rush that comes with it, and became RECKLESS which lead to the death of your team. How come you're not pushing daisies?"_ Williams gave him a smug grin, but when he was seeking affirmation from his colleagues, all he got was disgust. One of them even averted his gaze in embarrassment. 

Steve's hands balled into fists, and it took him a notable effort to control his emotions. They were surging strongly. He had an impulse to slam his fist into William's foul-mouthed face. It took him aback, just how strong that urge was. 

Suddenly, Williams signed, _"I'm sorry. I had no right …"_  

"You know what? I don't need your fu … damned pity. I’ve heard worse in the past," Steve snapped. And that was the God's honest truth. 

Steve's bruised and battered face had been all over the news when he had returned home as the sole survivor. 

While the Navy praised him as a hero, some of his comrade's family members hated him. Julie, the pregnant wife of Andrew, his second in command, spat into his face and wished him a long and painful death. The humiliation he’d had to endure while being captured had been nothing compared to the one he’d endured back at home. 

"Are you done signing insults about things you know nothing about?" Steve spat out in Williams's direction, "I have orders to relocate you. That’s what I’m gonna do.  Now." 

 _"I told you. I’m sorry,"_ the professor started another attempt in sign language, but Steve was already on his way out. 

"Danny, how about being less of an asshole?" Henry suggested. "The only thing McGarrett deserves is respect. He doesn’t seem anything like the other agents. And I bet my ass you won't scare him away. No matter what you do or how hard you try. This is a man clearly devoted to his job. He will risk his life to protect you, even if you hate him while he does it." 

When Williams finally showed up, Steve was leaning against the hood of the Lexus. Apparently, the professor was feeling uncomfortable because he avoided looking in Steve's direction and the vein on his temple was pulsing like crazy. He reminded Steve of a schoolboy with the backpack he carried. 

"Hey, where do you think you’re going?" Steve hollered out when Williams walked past him without further ado. The professor stopped in his tracks and turned around. 

 _"I'm taking my car. We can meet at my place."_ His hands were moving slower than earlier. 

"Then I have to check your car." Steve pushed himself away from the hood. 

 _"Check my car? Do you suppose someone is hiding in the trunk or that I am hiding something there?"_  

 _"Do you always need to have the last word?"_ this time Steve let his hands do the talking. He had no clue why Williams didn’t speak. But if he wanted to play it that way, Steve was in. 

 _"I don't want to fight, so…how about we bury the hatchet?"_ Danny suggested. 

 _"As for me, there is no hatchet we have to bury._ Now I'm going to check your car. _And after we have moved into the safe house, we will talk about rules, MY rules._ I'm in charge of your life for the next few weeks." Steve had emphasized the important parts of his short speech with sign language. 

Williams huffed out a breath. _"Are you always that bossy?"_ he signed before he walked over to the black Camaro and held out his keys to unlock the car remotely. 

"Nice ride," Steve said and ran his fingertips over the flawless outlines of the hood as he went to check the passenger side. In the meantime, Williams pulled the backpack from his shoulders and got behind the steering wheel. Steve froze in place when he heard a clicking sound. Icy fingers clutched at his heart, and he yelled, "What the fuck have you done? Stay put and don't move." 

With a few long strides, Steve was at the professor's side. When he went to shift his hand, Steve held it in place, "DO NOT MOVE." 

McGarrett shrugged out of his jacket, yanked the tie off his neck and dropped both items on the ground. 

Then he lay on his back and wiggled his way under the Camaro. Carefully, he took his cell phone out of his pocket and switched on the flashlight. 

The moment Steve laid eyes on the bomb, he knew something was off. The person who planted the device appeared to know a lot about explosives. However, Steve had disarmed numerous booby traps to know that this was not the job of a pro after all.

Williams almost had a heart attack when Steve's smeared face showed up next to him. 

"Bad news, you are sitting on a bomb." 

Williams's eyes went big.

 "Good news, I think I can disarm it." 

Now the professor's eyes were about to pop out of his skull. His face turned crimson. 

"You don't want to tell me something or VOICE your opinion?" Steve teased. He knew he was acting like a moron, but thrived on it because he was sure Williams could speak. 

"Stay put, okay. I'll be back in a few. And please: Do. Not. Move." Then Steve hurried to his car while he speed-dialed Ian. 

"Agent Redding." 

"Hi Ian, do me a favor and call the bomb squad." 

"McGarrett, is it you?" 

"Yes, Ian." 

"Oh, my gosh, what the hell happened?" 

"Our professor is sitting on top of a car bomb. But don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of this. Bomb squad’s just a precaution." 

Ian's voice got a few notches higher, "You’re gonna do WHAT?" 

"I’ve done it before. It’s a routine job," Steve assured him. 

"Are you okay? Why do you actually sound happy about this?!" 

Steve popped the trunk of his car open with one hand, "You should see the professor's face. That alone is worth all the fuss. Now be a good boy and call the bomb squad. Bye." 

He stashed his cell phone away, and grabbed a pair of black latex gloves from the emergency kit, along with some tools he would need to disarm the bomb. 

When he got back to Williams, the poor guy was still sitting in place, all drenched in sweat. The blood was rushing in his ears, and he was fighting against waves of nausea. 

Steve started barking out orders to the onlookers that had gathered around the car. Many of them had pulled out their phones, snapping pictures and taking videos from the scene. McGarrett did not doubt that this was going to be all over the news, soon. So much for keeping a low profile. 

After he had more or less cleared the area, he crouched next to Williams and said in a calm voice, "I promise you, I’m gonna get you out of here in no time. Either in one piece or …" 

Steve had to bite back the wicked grin that was about to show on his face. He took a deep breath, held it for a few moments and then exhaled slowly. "Okay, FOCUS," he told himself before laying on his back and wiggling his way back under the car. 

The professor buried his face in his backpack, thinking, "What in the world have I done to deserve this?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Upcoming:
> 
> \- What happened to Danny that he is not talking? To Steve, it is obvious that the professor doesn't have any medical issues.  
> \- So why is he using sign language?  
> \- What will Steve find out about the ominous car bomb?  
> \- How safe is the safe house?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](http://mycoven.net/index.php?seite=display&img=i450b3zi5t)   
> 

News vans had gathered around the area. By the time the bomb squad arrived, Steve had already disarmed the car bomb and separated the device from the explosives, three packages of C4. That could have gotten pretty nasty for all of them. The onlookers cheered and applauded. Danny was still sitting stiffly in the car, unmoving despite the fact that Steve had told him repeatedly that it was safe to do so.

The leader of the bomb squad wasn't very fond of Steve flying solo, or that the incident had turned into a news spectacle. He told Steve that his actions were going to have consequences. McGarrett merely waved him off with a half-hearted, "Thank you for your efforts. It was nice meeting you," and gave him the three packages of C4.

Ian showed up next, accompanied by an additional six field office agents. He was so glad to see Steve in one piece that he forgot about the formalities and just flung his arms around the bigger man's neck.

"Steve, it is so good to see you, man. I would’ve bet money I was gonna find you and the professor scattered all over the place."

Ian earned some bewildered looks from his colleagues and the leader of the bomb squad.

"Oh, sorry, sir, I mean…," he stammered, stumbling back to a more respectable distance.

Steve patted his shoulder, "It's okay, Redding, it’s okay. Don't worry. To be honest, this device was never gonna detonate. No one was ever in real danger."

The leader of the bomb squad glared at him in astonishment. "And you know that because you're an expert in this field? Do you have any idea…,” he started to stammer.

Steve took a short look at the name tag of the guy and interrupted him, "Jameson, sir. I have enough experience to know…"

At the same time, the professor finally showed up. He held his backpack in one hand. The grim look on his face spoke volumes. His whole body was trembling like a leaf.

”I see you finally figured out how to get out o’ the car, huh? Nice of you to join--.”

Williams's fist met Steve's jawbone before the brunette could finish his sarcastic statement, then the professor turned on his heel and stormed in the opposite direction.

When Ian and some of his colleagues wanted to jump into action, Steve held them back, "Don't. Leave him be."

He rubbed his hurting jaw and hollered out, "Hey professor, how about a thank you for saving your ass?"

No reaction.

He started another attempt, yelling after him, "Danny! That's it? Nothing, just nothing?"

In return, Williams flipped him off without even turning around. Nevertheless, two agents were already following the professor to stop him from driving off as his car was now evidence and was about to be towed away. The CSI unit would process it later that day.

"As I said, that man is a genuine piece of work," Ian muttered. "What is his problem?"

Steve handed him the device, "Look, check this thing for anything you can find, you hear me? Prints, DNA, freakin’ left-over hair fragments, I don’t care. My gut tells me we’re gonna find something. And I need something to prove me right. Oh, and as far as our charming professor is concerned, I’d say he’s got a whole list o’ problems, starting with why he’s not talking."

"Commander, I will file a disciplinary complaint against you," Jameson stated dryly.

"I look forward to that. Sounds like a plan. Anything else I can do?" Steve retorted.

Jameson signaled his team that they were done here and they should get back in the truck.

In the meantime, Ian had taken a call, and when the young agent's back turned rigid, and his face turned into a stony mask, Steve was sure that there was trouble ahead, big trouble.

"Yes, sir. Of course, we are on our way. Yes, sir. We will take Commander McGarrett and the professor back to the field office. Yes, sir. I know about the importance. Yes, sir. Copy that."

Ian's ears had turned into a bright red along with his cheeks. "That was my boss,” he explained and put his cell phone aside with shaky fingers.

"I assumed it. Is he pissed?"

"She, not he, and, yes, SSA Dekker is beyond pissed, to put it mildly."

Steve's eyes got wide, "You're not talking about Angela Dekker, are you?"

"Why? Do you know her?"

Steve bit his lower lip to keep the angry words he had in mind inside and huffed out a breath, "Let's say last time we met, it didn't end up well."

The two agents had Williams escorted back to the Lexus, and were already waiting for Steve.

"Thank you gentleman; I'll take him from here," Steve said.

He opened the passenger door for the professor, went over to the other side, and got behind the steering wheel.

After a few minutes' drive, an electronic voice said, "Cat got your tongue?" The professor was apparently using an app for communication.

"I could ask you the same thing. What normal person uses sign language when there is no medical reason for it? I mean, you're neither deaf nor mute. You're simply not talking."

Williams was typing on his cell for some time before he pressed enter, "Your job is to protect me, McGarrett. You are not here to analyze me or question my ability to speak. You could’ve killed me, the onlookers, and yourself when you decided it was okay to go all Captain America back there and do everything yourself!"

"See, professor, I AM here to protect you, and you shouldn’t question my abilities," Steve shot back.

Twenty minutes later, Steve knocked on SSA Dekker's door. His heart was pounding in his throat; he hadn't seen her in ages.

"Come in," a familiar voice ordered.

"Angela. Can’t say it’s a pleasure to see you again," Steve's voice sounded raspy as he closed the door behind him.

She extended her hand to the chair opposite her, "Have a seat."

He used two fingers to loosen his tie a bit. "Long time no see. Price didn’t mention you were running this field office… Looks like he forgot to mention a lot of things concerning this assignment."

"To me, it looks like you haven't changed a bit in all these years," she came straight to the point.

"Your reckless behavior endangered the lives of many people. What the hell were you thinkin’ before the bomb squad showed up?! This is New Jersey, Steven not some remote village in Afghanistan. This is a clear case of insubordination. I could fire your sorry ass in no time."

Steve held her glare, "Still the charming ice queen. Don't tell me you always go by the book. The bomb could have detonated while we were waiting for the bomb squad."

"Could it? As far as I know, you told Jameson that it wasn't going to detonate anyway."

"Ah, I see. He already filed a complaint against me. I guess it must have hurt his ego when I was done with the job before he arrived a whole half-hour later. Where the hell were _they_?"

"Your job was to secure the area and take care of the professor. Instead, you went gung-ho and turned it into a media circus. Your behavior is unacceptable." Her jaw worked, and it took her some effort not to yell at Steve and to keep their conversation professional.

"You either still have a crush on me, or you're jealous because the media loves me."

At best, Angela would have wiped the smug grin off his face. Steve could practically hear her teeth grinding at this rate, and he couldn’t help the smirk that upturned his lips.

"For the record, I never had a crush on you. I just had…a weak moment," she admitted begrudgingly.

"It was a whole weekend as far as I remember. In the end, you ratted me out, and I ended up in a World War II bunker somewhere in Romania. I was lucky that this guy Constantin played for our team and helped me get outta there. Unfortunately…, it cost him his life." Steve dropped his gaze to the floor.

"I had to do what I had to do. Otherwise, it would have endangered the whole mission," Angela justified herself.

Steve looked up to meet her gaze, "And today, I had to do what I had to do. Are we done? My orders are to relocate Williams, and I am way behind schedule."

"Price and I decided to delay that plan until the media hype calms down. You'll stay in Williams's place. A tactical team will be out there for surveillance 24/7."

"Awesome, are we done," Steve glanced at his watch, "I'm starving. All I had for breakfast was a cup of coffee. My stomach is growling like a bear."

Angela got up from her chair, "Ian will take care of your lunch, just tell him what you want. But do me a favor, no more solo action, McGarrett. I don’t know how many more asses I’m willing to kiss or favors I’m willing to call in to keep you on the job."

Steve had his hand on the doorknob already, "I'm sure you'll handle the situation, SSA Dekker."

"See you later, Steven." Angela was still angry with the man, but she would not tell him that the bigger part of her foul mood came from being worried about him. It almost killed her when he had been captured in Tanzania. And it had hurt her feelings that he did not show up on her doorstep after his return. She would have loved to take care of him.

Danny Williams lived on the outskirts of Jersey in a two-story building with an incredible view, three bedrooms, walk-in closet, lounge and diner, kitchen, bathroom, utility area, and a garage for two cars. Way too big for one guy, Steve thought after Williams finished the tour through the house.

Steve was still not used to talk when Williams was using sign-language all the time. Could it be that the guy was just eccentric or was more behind his behavior? As he was going to spend at least the next four weeks with the professor, Steve was determined to use the time to learn as much as he could about his client.

During lunch, Williams suggested that Steve should call him Danny. And within the next few hours, they seem to grow on each other until Steve's cell phone chirped. It was a text message from Ian. The results from the lab were back. He'd attached the file and some side notes to it. Steve texted Ian back, thanked him for the efforts, and promised to contact him later. McGarrett did not know if he should be overjoyed or disappointed because his gut feeling hadn't betrayed him.

He followed Danny into the kitchen. The professor had fetched two beers from the fridge and was about to pop the bottles open.

"Why did you do this?" Steve asked.

Danny turned around signing, _"Don't sneak up on me. I almost dropped the bottle. What are you talking about? What did I do?"_

Steve kept on talking; he was too riled up to sign. "Don't play dumb. It doesn't suit you. You know exactly what I mean. I'm talking about the fucking car bomb, Daniel. It was you who planted it there."

Danny swallowed hard. His heart sank. _"You think it was me?"_ he signed almost in slow-mo. _"Why in the world would I do that? Are you crazy?!"_

Steve held up his cell and pointed at it. "The evidence speaks for itself. We have some partial fingerprints and your DNA on the device. Was it a hot day when you worked on it because it was your sweat that gave you away."

Williams swiped the floor with his gaze. It was obvious he was looking for words.

"Professor, what's your explanation for this fucking charade? Are you on a suicide mission? Was it a test? Are you trying to scare me away? What the hell was it?"

When there was still no reaction from Danny, Steve lost it, put his hands on the blond man's collar, lifted him partly from his feet, and drove him against the wall, "Gimme one good reason not to beat the crap out of you!"

Suddenly, Steve was hit by a flashback. He found himself back in Tanzania in the torture chamber. They had forced his arms backward so that the palms of his hands were turned outward behind him. They fastened them together at the wrists with a rope which was rotated by a diesel engine. Then they drew them by degrees nearer each other, in such a manner that the back of each hand touched and stood precisely parallel to each other. The violent contortion dislocated his shoulders, and Steve had bitten clean through his cheek trying to hold in his screams. Then they had beat the crap out of him. When they were done, he was dragged to their "doctor" who painfully set the dislocated bones so that he could recuperate for the next round of torture.

Steve let go of Danny in an instant. He exhaled sharply as a wave of nausea washed over him. He barely made it to the bathroom before his stomach felt like it was trying to exit his esophagus. This had been one of the harshest flashbacks he'd experienced since his return.

Steve dragged himself back to his feet by holding on to the sink. He turned the cold water faucet on and splashed his face. Then he took the towel from the hook next to him and buried his face in it.

Minutes ticked by until he heard a slight knock on the door and a metallic voice said, "Are you okay? Is there anything I can do for you?"

Danny stood on the other side with his head against the door, his eyes closed. All the evidence pointed in his direction, of course. What else did he expect? He'd put his life on the line and involved himself in a deadly game. Though the game was no longer a game and his opponents were closing in much faster than he'd thought. The Russian mobster was the least of his problems. Henry was right. He couldn't scare McGarrett away as easily as the others. But by all means, he could not let him in on his secret. Not yet. This was something he had to fix on his own.

When McGarrett eventually came out from the bathroom, he looked like hell. Dark shadows were under his eyes, and his cheeks looked sunken. His eyes were bloodshot, and his skin had a sickly pallor.

 _"Do you need a doctor?"_ Danny signed.

Steve shook his head, "No, thanks. I'm…I'm sorry for my outburst but…" He swallowed, "Do you have an Advil? My head is killing me."

 _"Sure, it’s in the mirror cabinet above the sink."_ Danny brushed past him. Both men felt the heat that radiated from their bodies. Their eyes met briefly. Steve swallowed hard; his mouth felt as dry as the Sahara desert. With the bottle of Advil in his hands, Danny helped him to the couch and got him a glass of water from the kitchen.

Steve gulped down two pills. "I am a helluva bodyguard, don't you think?" he said after he'd put the glass on the coffee table. His voice was oozing sarcasm. "I screw up on keeping a low profile, I assault my client, and then I'm puking my guts out." Steve lifted the glass in a toast-like manner, "To an awesome start," and swallowed the rest of the water in one big gulp, wishing it was vodka, or maybe even something stronger.

Danny cleared his throat to grab Steve's attention and signed, _"See, the point is that I assaulted you in the first place. Remember when my fist met your jaw at the scene, in front of all those people? I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it, but… I didn't have any right to do that because you saved my sorry ass only minutes before. I'm not good with apologies and all, but…I would be happy if you accept mine. Will you?"_

"Sure, buddy," Steve gave him a broad tired grin in return before his expression turned serious, "Are you trying to distract me from the question of why the fuck you planted a car bomb on your own car in the first place? I know that the device was rigged and probably never would've exploded, but how could you have been so sure about it? I mean, what if…" Steve imitated an explosion with his voice and his hands.

Danny inhaled sharply and signed, _"Would you believe me if I told you that I was framed? Maybe the Russians want to discredit me or make me look like a loony who wants to end his life because I can't stand the pressure any longer."_

"Sorry, Danny, this still doesn't sound right to me. If they had the chance to end your life, they would have done it. Try again."

Danny jumped to his feet, _"Look, you’re the agent here, not me. It’s your job to figure who’s tryin’ to kill me!"_

Their eyes locked. "Is that so?" Steve asked, "Would you swear that you don't know who was behind the car bomb? I can’t help but feel like there’s somethin’ you’re not tellin’ me here. I am not the enemy, Danny. I can help you. Pretty sure I proved that you can trust me, man!"

Danny shook his head, signing, _"Excuse me. I have work to do. I’ll be in my study."_ With that, he vanished upstairs.

"Well, if you’re determined not to talk to me, guess we’re gonna have to take this to the next level," Steve muttered and pulled his cell from his back pocket. He scrolled through the contact list until he found the name he was looking for.

The guy on the other end of the line answered after the third ring, "McG, hey. I haven't heard from you in ages, so I’m assuming you need a favor."

Steve smirked, "Is it that obvious, Max? Why couldn't this just be a call between friends?"

"First and foremost, you never JUST CALL, McG. And second, I don't consider you my friend. You busted my ass when I was hacking the HPD. I swear all I wanted was to fix my tickets."

Steve's grin got broader, "You fixed a little bit more than that, and then you wanted to sell the data back to us. Stop telling half-truths."

"McG, you know I would never do that. I always forget that you have a memory like an elephant. You hardly ever forget anything." Max snickered.

Steve made sure that he was alone in the living room and lowered his voice.

"Are you in for some illegal activities? I have a problem with my current client, but I can't use the official channels."

"You already had me at illegal. I'm game. Email me the details. Gonna be just like the good ol’ days. Bye.

"Bye Max." The line went dead, and Steve stared at the display long after it went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words that are singned are written in _italic_
> 
>  
> 
> [](http://mycoven.net/index.php?seite=display&img=i456bqwkht)  
> 

Barefoot, shirtless, and wearing nothing more than a pair of faded jeans, Danny stood in front of his dresser mirror. With the forefinger of his right hand, he traced the scar that ran from the middle of his chest almost down to his navel. He closed his eyes briefly and tried to will away the images that flooded his mind. It was in vain. His eyes flung open, and he gasped for air. To him, the flesh of the scar looked still raw and stood out like a beacon beneath his otherwise hairy chest.

It took him some effort to tear his eyes away from this silent reminder while the blood was rushing in his ears, and the sound of his heartbeat echoed like a jackhammer in his ears. He was so overwhelmed by the numerous images that invaded his mind, he dropped like a sack of potatoes onto the bed, stretched out on his back, and stared up at the ceiling. He opened his mouth and wanted to scream. An unarticulated sound escaped his throat. It felt like someone, or something had restrained his vocal cords. McGarrett was wrong; Danny could not speak. The thing was, there wasn’t anything physically wrong that kept him from talking, at least not according to the countless doctors he’d consulted over the years. His inability to speak was essentially all in his head.

It had been a hard day. Resistance was futile. Danny was just too emotionally drained, so he decided to let the demons in. 

**Three Years Ago…**

Danny, his brother Matthew, at that time a successful lawyer, and two of his associates - Aaron James and Richard Benson - spent the Christmas holidays heli-skiing in Gstaad, Switzerland. All four men knew that helicopter skiing was even more high-risk and dangerous a venture than regular skiing already was. However, they called themselves the 'Funtastic Four' and prided themselves on being the ultimate thrill-seekers.

What started as an adventure, though, ended in Danny's personal apocalypse. They were carving downhill through thick layers of powder. Powder skiing in untouched areas was a dream for many skiers. For the Williams' brothers and their friends, it was a perfect day until Danny heard a faint rumble from behind them.

Danny stopped immediately, but the other three guys didn't react to his shouting. When he turned his eyes upward, he saw it. A mountain of snow was speeding in his direction, taking everything with it that was in its path. Danny didn't stand a chance against the avalanche. He was swept off of his feet with full force. After being tossed around like a ragdoll for what felt like an eternity, his world went dark.

The next thing Danny remembered was waking up in a hospital, and the doctors telling him that they had to resuscitate him three times. Aaron and Richard were dead, and Matty was fighting for his life in a room down the hall. Two days later, the doctors had another shocking message for Danny. On top of the numerous bone fractures, ruptured spleen, various gashes, and bruises littering his body, they had discovered his heart wasn’t working the way it should’ve been, even discounting the tragic accident he’d been in. It was a congenital defect that had been uncovered during the MRI he'd had to undergo. They hooked him up to an external pacemaker, but there was no doubt he needed a new heart and needed it immediately. Danny felt the life drain from his body. He grew weaker with each passing day.

And then, as if life decided to kick him while he was down, Matty died without ever regaining consciousness. He'd suffered severe head injuries when his head hit a stone after he'd lost his helmet in the avalanche. Matty's heart was a perfect match. Danny's first reaction was total denial, but time was a luxury he could not afford. His parents urged him to take his brother’s heart; they didn't want to lose another son. If he wanted to live, he had only one choice. There wouldn't be another heart available in the timeframe he needed it. Shouldn't he be happy? He'd cracked the jackpot of life, but at what costs?

After another sleepless night, feeling life slipping through his fingers like sand, Danny eventually agreed on the heart transplant. When he woke up after the surgery, his voice was gone. First, the doctors had thought they had damaged his vocal cords with the necessary intubation required for any person going under general anesthesia. However, this was not the case. The hospital's psychologist told Danny that he suffered PTSD and prescribed some meds. Danny hated that medication; he always felt like it turned him into nothing more than a zombie. His mind and body went numb whenever he took one of the pills, but it didn't make him feel any better. He felt trapped between two revolving doors. There was no way out.

**Present Day…**

Steve returned from his rounds. He'd checked to make sure all the doors and windows were locked from the inside as well as from the outside. Some people might call him paranoid. He knew there was a surveillance team outside, but the only person he trusted with Danny's life was himself. No rest for the weary. Sure, he hadn’t been overly thrilled when first given this assignment, assuming it was another stereotypical babysitting chore far below his abilities. That had changed the moment he'd discovered the car bomb.

A yawn split his face before he had a chance to stifle it. As his room was upstairs next to Danny's bedroom, he switched all the lights off and mounted the stairs. At the top of the first flight, he hesitated when he saw a light under one of the doors and listened. He could hear sobbing coming from the direction of Danny's bedroom. Steve continued up to the hallway until he stood in front of the door and then tapped gently. When there was no answer, he knocked again, this time a bit louder. He turned the handle and eased the door open. Danny sat on the edge of the bed. He'd propped his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. His shoulders were twitching. He looked up when McGarrett stepped into the room and jumped to his feet. He wavered, nearly lost his balance. Steve grabbed him by one arm to steady him. At the same time, he eyed him up, deeply worried.

"Are you okay?" he asked concerned.

Danny pressed his lips together and shook his head. When Steve was sure his client could stay on his own feet, he reluctantly let go of his arm. "Is there anything I can do for you? Do you want to talk about it?"

Danny sat down on the bed and motioned the brunette to take a seat next to him. The scar on his client's chest didn't escape Steve's observation. It was hard not to stare at it openly, not to mention the effort it took to keep his questions regarding said scar to himself. Steve knew he had to be careful with his actions. He'd scared the professor away when he'd turned into interrogation mode earlier that day. Danny was his client, not a suspect. Well, that was what he was hoping for.

"I'm sorry I've invaded your personal space. You don't owe me an explanation or anything. I was just worried; when I saw you…I can go now. It's been a long day for both of us."

Steve was about to leave when Danny took him by the wrist and signed, _"Please, stay. If you think I don't owe you anything, you’re wrong. I owe you my life. I swear, I did not plant that bomb, and I'm serious about using sign language. You think **you** aren’t good with people. Well, that makes two of us, then. I'm good with numbers and solving math issues. Having a conversation with another human being about Occam's Razor or Schroedinger's Cat won't be a problem, either."_

The bewildered look on Steve's face curved Danny's lips into a smile. _"See, I'm already heading down the nerd path,"_ he kept on signing. _"Math and science rule my world, Steve, but…it’s not… It hasn’t always been like that. There were times when my brother and I did base jumping in Dubai and almost got booked for it."_

Steve's brows shot up in surprise. "You gotta be kiddin' me."

To prove he was right, Danny pulled out his cell phone from the back pocket of his jeans and showed Steve a picture that showed him and Matty on top of the Burj Khalifa, the tallest building in the United Arab Emirates. They were fully geared up for conducting a base jump.

The following conversation consisted mainly of Danny signing. Steve threw in questions or remarks here and there. It was like Williams was talking about an entirely different person. In that short amount of time, Steve finally got a glimpse of the man Margret had mentioned in their brief conversation, the professor that was popular with his students. He was an entertaining storyteller and had nothing in common with the arrogant wiseass Steve had met at the lab this morning.

Danny didn’t know why he was opening up about his life-altering experience in the Swiss Alps. Since Matty's death, he'd never felt this connected to another person. Danny became aware of the rich feeling of contentment within him. Though the little voice in his head hadn't completely died down, he didn’t succumb to it. Steve was a stranger to him. Of course, Danny and Price had had a short conversation about his new bodyguard. Williams had also gone trolling the internet for information and found more than he wanted to when he came across McGarrett's story on several news blogs. Some of the articles were badly written and showed pictures of Steve shortly after his rescue. It was hard to tell what this man's face actually looked like with all the bruises and swelling.

Maybe that was part of their invisible bond. Both men had been through hell. Their experiences may have been entirely different, but both had been on the verge of death. Could this be a common denominator? While Danny was signing, another part of his brain was busy calculating how much he could tell Steve about what was really going on. At some point, Williams came the conclusion that while it was okay to tell him about the incident in the Swiss Alps, he couldn’t tell him the rest. This was no longer a matter of trust; it was more about endangering Steve's life.

Danny considered it a miracle that McGarrett was still there after the way he'd treated him and the fact that they'd been almost ripped to pieces by a bomb.

He finally stopped signing and dropped his hands into his lap. They sat together in peaceful silence. Minutes ticked by. Steve had to let sink in what he'd just heard. At the same time, he felt reminded of Beyoncé's song 'Halo.' The walls Danny had built around him tumbled down when he opened up about his past and why he could not speak.

Steve hated himself for behaving like an asshole by suspecting the professor of simply being eccentric or too arrogant to speak. At this point, McGarrett thought he might have lost his mojo. Would he have judged Williams in the same way if Tanzania had never happened? His captivity had not only changed him as a person, but it had also altered his way of thinking. Expect the worst from other people, even when they were victims. FUCK.

He must've uttered the word because Danny nudged him to grab his attention when he signed, _"What's on your mind? Are you mad at me?"_

"No, no, no," Steve hurried to say. "This wasn't about you. This was about me. I'm mad at me."

Danny signed, _"No, why would you be mad at you? You did nothing wrong."_

Their eyes locked. Steve's sorrow and regret were plain to see until, in the end, he sucked in a shuddering breath. "Look, Danny… I don’t think I ever really…came back from Tanzania, ya know? Like…, like part of me is still trapped in that fucking death camp. I don't see things like I did before that happened to me."

 _"Of course, a lot of things have changed in your life since then. What did you expect? That you could shake it off? Like a dog comin’ out of the water? You are not a soulless robot, Steve. All the training in the world couldn’t have prepared you for that kind of torture, not even the infamous SEAL training. In my case, it was my, or our, fault. We deliberately put our lives in danger. We were aware of all the risks heli-skiing came with. Nevertheless, we thought we were invincible. Until that day, it was always the other crazy guys who died because they were too reckless. We were sure it could never happen to us,”_ Danny paused.

Dark features crossed his face before his hands kept on moving. _"In the end, we paid for our arrogance with our lives. I may be the last man standing, so to speak, but…sometimes I feel just as dead as my friends and my brother. And if it weren't for the respect for Matty and his heart beating in my chest, I would've killed myself a long time ago. Call me crazy, but I've fantasized about how to end my life on many a sleepless night. Unlike what happened to you, no one ever blamed me for what happened or for coming out alive while everyone else died, not even my parents. I expected them to hate me for not taking care of Matty because he was my younger brother. But they didn't. It made me sick when they looked at me and treated me like they always did like I was their beloved eldest child that they would do anything for. I didn’t deserve it."_

Again tears were streaming down the professor's face. He didn’t even bother to wipe them away. Following an irresistible impulse, Steve took Danny's hand and pulled him into his arms. To comfort him, he told himself. Only to comfort him for a few moments before he would go back to being his bodyguard. Against all the doubts he had at the beginning of this assignment, Steve realized he wanted to stay and protect Danny. His fate was sealed when Danny first clung to him and then turned his face up to his and their eyes locked once more.

It felt like a whiplash that brought Steve back to his senses. What the fuck was going on here? He let go of Danny and jumped to his feet, "I think I better go now. I'm dead tired. Good night."

It was a lame excuse, but it was the best he could muster before he entangled himself in a web of words he would probably regret.

After the bedroom door felt shut, Danny dropped his jeans together with his black boxers and slipped under the covers. He felt as if an enormous weight had finally been lifted off his shoulders. Before he could rack his brain about what just happened between him and Steve, though, he drifted into a deep, and thankfully dreamless, sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Conspirational theories? Keep them coming. I love to read about your speculations.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](http://mycoven.net/index.php?seite=display&img=i466b94yzb)  
> 
> 
>  
> 
>   [](http://mycoven.net/index.php?seite=display&img=i465bc3zrp)  
> 

Danny awoke lazily to the sun streaking through the blinds over his bedroom window, the crumpled sheets pooled around his waist.  He slowly blinked his eyes open, letting them adjust to the brightening daylight as he maneuvered himself into a sitting position.  It took a few moments of twisting his back and stretching his neck to awake more fully.  His lips curled into a slow smile, though, because he’d always enjoyed the gradual process of waking up after the pleasure of sleeping in on a weekend morning.  He glanced casually at the alarm clock, groaning and staring at the ceiling when he realized it was only just past 7:30.  So much for sleeping in.  

Suddenly, familiar smells hit his nose, and his mind was bombarded with memories from his childhood, of his mother yelling up the stairs to come find food before his brother hogged it all.  Danny got up, rubbed his eyes, and tried to focus.  Yesterday’s dramatic events slowly filtered through the leftover haze of sleep still clinging to him, and he shuddered almost violently.  A yawn split his jaw as he dragged himself into the bathroom to take a shower, hoping to wash away the worst of the memories. 

Nose twitching more once he was cleaned up and dressed, he caught faint fumes of frying bacon wafting up from the kitchen when he opened his bedroom door. How could it be? He bunny-sniffed again and followed the scents into the kitchen, his mouth dropping at the sight of Steve in front of his stove, wisps of smoke drifting up over his shoulders. 

"You keep staring at me like that, I’m gonna think you want _me_ for breakfast,” Steve said jokingly when he glanced over his shoulder at the sound of Danny’s soft footsteps before turning back to his task.  “How about you help me with setting the table?" 

Steve had hardly finished his sentence when he felt Danny's hand in the small of his back as the blonde guy leaned in, taking a glimpse into the pan. 

Steve shuddered at the touch, though he jokingly spoke, "You should know better than sneaking up on your bodyguard. You could end up on the ground, face down." 

Danny chuckled and signed, _"Are you always making empty promises or are you just trying to impress me?"_  

Steve huffed out a sigh, "Can you do me a favor?" 

Danny batted his eyelashes as he moved his hands slowly, _"Anything you want."_  

"Stop invading my private space and fill the two mugs with coffee." 

Danny followed Steve's request but not without mocking the bodyguard behind his back. 

After they sat down at the table, Danny signed, _"Where did all the food come from? My fridge was empty the last time I looked."_  

"That's what colleagues are for. I prefer homemade food to a dry-as-a-bone bagel and overpriced colored dishwater they call coffee. I made a shopping list and texted it to Ian." 

Danny gave Steve an admiring look before he dug into the scrambled eggs. 

They were halfway through their breakfast when Steve's phone started to ring. 

"Excuse me; I have to take this." Steve dabbed his mouth with a napkin and hurried into the living room. The phone that was ringing was his burner cell. Some calls he made should be kept private and didn’t need to end up on the monthly invoice. 

"You better have some good news for me," he said in a low voice. 

"I'd love to say your wish is my command, master. But it is not going to work that way this time," Max's voice sounded a bit disappointed. 

"What's up, kiddo? Don’t tell me you’ve lost your mojo," Steve quipped. 

"Something is definitely wrong with Mr. Cranky Pants. He has some nasty hacking skills. Accessing his data is like trying to break into Fort Knox. It was wrong to think I could just waltz in like I usually do." 

Steve frowned, "Um, this guy is a math genius, Max, so what did you expect?" 

"Math genius doesn’t necessarily equal master hacker, McG. I'm working on the code, and I’m sure I’ve seen it before, I just can’t remember when or where. Fuck. On another note, you were right about Price screwing you over. I have no idea what makes Williams so important for their case against the Russian mob. The only relation I found was his brother Matthew and his law company." 

"Danny was probably involved in some of that stuff," Steve suggested. 

Max sounded dead serious when he said, "Whatever. Look, I’m on it, but still…be careful out there. I hate to say this but trust nobody right now. That professor of yours is hiding something, and your boss is an asshole. Currently, I'm running a full background check on everyone involved. The CIA gates are wide open. I'll give you an update as soon as I'm done with that." 

"Thanks for your efforts and take care, Maximus Prime." Steve ended the call and stashed the burner cell away. 

Danny had crossed the floor into the living room and found his bodyguard standing in the middle of the room, where Steve was staring out through the panoramic windows. The gray clouds matched his mood, and the more he thought about his talk with Max, the worse his mood became. 

He turned around when he heard Danny clearing his throat. How long had he been standing there? Had he heard him talking to Max? 

 _"Who called you? Everything alright? You look worried. If there’s somethin’ I can do, please let me know. I wasn’t spying on you, I just wanted to come thank you for breakfast. It's been a while since someone cooked for me. I've put the dishes into the dishwasher.  It looks like I caught you at a bad time, so I’m just gonna go check my e-mails and whatnot. Sorry, I didn’t mean--."_  

Danny’s hands were moving so fast, they were practically a blur, nervous energy from yesterday practically spilling from his pores. "Daniel, slow down," Steve finally snapped because he was having serious trouble following everything the man was trying to say to him, "I only caught parts of that." 

 _"Oh, sorry,"_ Danny signed. He had an apologetic look on his face. _"I just got carried away."_ Then he repeated everything a little slower, though his hands still shook slightly. 

"I'm fine, thanks for asking. Just the usual madness that comes with the job," Steve lied easily. "I'm going to check the perimeters to make sure nobody is lurking out there. I don't trust the surveillance team.  It’s not the first time they’ve turned a blind eye to something, so better to be safe than sorry.  I promise you, it’s just a routine thing, nothin’ to do with the phone call." 

Steve couldn't get out of the house fast enough. As he brushed past Danny, he caught his soapy scent and felt the heat that radiated from the smaller man's body. But his mind was too occupied to see him as anything else but his client at this very moment. 

Danny stood there with his mouth open, watched the door close, and wondered about the sudden change in Steve's behavior. Okay, if this was not about the phone call, than what was it? Breakfast had been going pretty well right up until Steve’s phone had rang.  Brooding, he went over to his study. 

His heart sank when he discovered two missed calls on his own phone and an angry text message saying, "You better have a damn good reason you forgot about me, Williams. Call me ASAP, or you will truly regret it." A glimpse at his watch told him that he was well over an hour late for this scheduled Skype session. Fuck. With shaky fingers, he plugged in his earphones, sat down, and typed in the internet address that was part of the text message. A window popped up, and at the same time, he received a five-digit code in an additional text message. It was always the same procedure, but the internet address changed along with the code. Of course, he'd tried to do a reverse search, but the guy was too good at covering his tracks. Danny always came up empty-handed.  

As usual, he couldn’t see the face of his chat partner, and the man’s voice was alienated. The whole scenario sent unpleasant chills down Danny's spine. 

"About damn time you called. Were you too busy fucking that new toy of yours to get here on time?" the guy sneered. "I hope you enjoyed my little surprise. I can't promise that bomb won't go off right in your face next time. Your new toy did a great job of saving your sorry ass. Unfortunately, he sticks even closer to you now. That was not my plan. Get rid of him within the next few days, Williams…, or I will. And you know all too well what I’m capable of." 

Danny swallowed, his heart about to burst from his chest as the guy kept on talking, "Just a reminder, dear friend, that you are still part of my game. And I really enjoy it. I would love to lay my skilled hands on your bodyguard. Only he wouldn’t be as lucky as he was when he returned from Tanzania. Now… Watch my latest present and don't dare cut the connection or look away. I can see your every move. You. Are. _Mine_." 

 _"I am not yours,"_ Danny signed, shocked to find such courage coming to the surface from deep within him. _"This is over **right fuckin’** now. I’m sick of you thinking you can control me, you son of a bitch. I won’t be your victim anymore. Go and play in traffic and find yourself someone new."_

"Oh? So you’ve decided to misbehave like a bad little untrained puppy today? Do you really think you can talk to me like that without any consequences?" 

The view of the camera changed and landed on a young man in his early twenties, naked and strapped to a chair. His body showed signs of torture, his face was bruised, and one of his eyes was swollen shut. Without further ado, the man stepped behind his victim and cut his throat in one swift motion. He used so much force that he almost severed the head. Danny’s jaw dropped so fast, he felt it nearly unhinge. 

"This one's on you, professor. Who knows who's next on the hot chair? Could be you, could be your bodyguard, maybe even one of your coworkers. I have no problem in adapting to your new attitude. But I promise you…not everyone will survive this game." The connection was lost, and the screen went dark. Danny tore the earplugs from his ears, jumped to his feet, hurried to the bathroom, and threw up in the toilet. 

Steve conducted a thorough search of the outside of Danny’s house, as well as several homes to the left and right.  It took a lot of effort to not focus on his earlier conversation as he did so, though. Of course, he could call his boss and ask him straight up what the hell was actually going on, but he doubted Price would become so open and upfront all of a sudden.  That left him with only one option: talk to Danny and hope he’d be cooperative.  How the hell was he was supposed to do his job fully if he only had half the facts? And if Steve was being honest with himself, he knew this wasn’t the first time Price had pulled a stunt like this. 

There were rumors aplenty that his boss had used innocent people as scapegoats in an ill-conceived effort to bring down some of America's most wanted criminals. It had mostly ended up a disaster and never had any consequences for Price himself. He must have some very powerful friends. All this happened before Steve joined the CIA, though, and none of it was ever proven. Even Max hadn’t been able to dig up dirt, which likely meant that the files never made it into the system. So, where were they hidden, Area 51? He thought to himself. 

Steve barked out a laugh. By all means, he did not believe in conspiracy theories. With enough time and stubbornness, he was sure he could find out what was really behind these rumors. He would deal with it sooner or later. He was just back from his assignment from hell and didn't feel the urge to get into a pissing contest with his boss based on tales from former agents that were fired for insubordination. 

First and foremost, Steve had to take care of his current client. And he had to do that whether he was involved in this charade or not. Who was he to question his orders? 

Yeah, he was Steve McGarrett, his father's son. His father had lost his life in the line of duty trying to deal with a bunch of corrupt policeman and politicians who had founded a secret community whose sole purpose was to take the law into their hands, eliminating targets that escaped the justice system in one way or another. Things spiraled out of control, as they usually do when people misuse perfectly reasonable concepts. People were killed because someone wanted their job or their land or whatever. In the end, it had nothing to do with the original plan. Steve's dad ran the task force and became aware that one of his closest friends, Chin Ho Kelly, was not only involved in some killings but also the mastermind behind the scenes. Chin Ho went down guns blazing. It cost Steve's father his life, but Chin Ho was rotting in a small cell in solitary confinement in Halawa, for the rest of his miserable life. 

Steve blinked away the tears that suddenly stung in his eyes. He'd talked a lot to his father while he'd been incarcerated in the death camp. It had helped him through the darkest hours. One of the first things he did after his return was to visit his father's grave to thank him for bringing him home safe. 

His phone chirped announcing a text message. When Steve opened it, he read "911." The message was from Danny. In an instant, he switched into protector mode and ran back to the house. He cursed himself for forgetting about the time and leaving Danny alone for so long. What the fuck was he thinking? And where was his backup? He expected to find the entrance door of Danny's house open and agents swarming the area. To his surprise, everything looked the way he'd left it. Did someone sneak in from behind and was currently holding Danny hostage? The scenarios took on a life of their own in Steve's head. He stopped and hid behind a tree to inform the guys in the surveillance van. 

"Rivera? Have you seen any suspicious activities in the past 15 minutes?" 

The agent on the other end of the line, sighed, "Nope. Everything is fine, except we ran out of coffee and my back is killing me. Why?" 

"Just got a 911 text from the professor," Steve murmured, keeping his eyes on the house. Rivera immediately jumped to attention, "Stay put. We’ll join you." Within two minutes, four agents showed up at Steve's location. He sent two of them to the back of the house with one going back to the van to double-check the surveillance videos, while Steve and Rivera went up to the front door with their guns drawn. 

"On three," Steve mouthed starting to count down. 

At one, the door swung open and Danny found himself opposite to two armed agents. He took in a sharp breath and almost fainted. It was much more than he could bear. Steve caught the professor at his wrist while he put away the gun with his other hand. 

"Easy, buddy, easy," he said in a calm voice and briefly turned to Rivera to assure him Danny was more or less okay. 

Right at that moment, the two other agents stormed the house from behind and pointed their guns at Danny and Steve, who shoved the smaller man instinctively behind him. 

"Drop your weapons," Steve barked out. "We have everything under control." It took the agents a moment to react but then they obeyed, and Danny collapsed against Steve's back, his fingers tightly gripping the other man’s shirt. 

The agents exchanged words, Steve assuring them the “emergency” was nonexistent, and then they left the house together with Agent Rivera, who apologized once more. Over and over again, Danny had been signing how sorry he was for causing this chaos and how thankful he was nobody was shot.  The whole time, Steve translated for him. 

The door closed eventually, and Steve leaned against it, utterly exhausted.  He felt like he'd run a marathon. Another sign he was not back in shape. He immediately put his issues aside when he saw Danny standing in the hallway still shaking like a leaf. When Steve put a hand on his client's shoulder, he almost jumped out of his skin and withdrew from him. 

"Dude, can you enlighten me about your 911 text? You scared the crap out of me. I thought someone had broken into the house…or worse." 

Danny motioned to follow him into the living room where he sat down in a wing chair, and Steve took a seat on the couch. Steve could see the beads of cold sweat that formed on Danny's forehead and upper lip. 

Danny started to sign erratically, like before, but slowed down as soon as he saw the blank look on Steve's face. 

 _"What I am going to tell you is something I would love to forget. I just…I need you to believe me.  The police didn’t."_  

"The police?" Steve got into it. 

Danny nodded, taking a deep breath before starting his story.  _“They didn’t believe me because I had no evidence. They just…thought I was an eccentric guy who had a one-night stand with a male prostitute after a night out.  One of them even called me a faggot.  He didn’t know I was…reading his lips.”_   His cheeks flushed red with remembered embarrassment, but he kept on with the story.  If he stopped now, he didn’t think he’d ever find the will to start again. 

 _"When I…when I told them that I was drugged and raped, they had to bite back their laughter. They made some terrible jokes, and I felt like an idiot for calling them. They didn't even bother to send anyone over from the crime lab to check over my bedroom. For them, I had made up the whole thing. They considered it a one-night stand that had gone south, and that I was looking for some kind of revenge or whatever. I never heard from them again. Too be honest, at that time I thought it can't get any worse, but I was wrong. It was just the beginning."_ Danny dropped his hands into his lap and gazed at the floor. 

Steve sat there, aghast. Not knowing what he could say that wouldn't sound cheesy or pitiful. He swallowed hard a few times until he finally managed to say, "I'm sorry, Danny, that this happened to you. I can only imagine how hard it is to talk about it. But…if I’m gonna help you the way you really need me to, I’m gonna need some more details.  It’s not because I don’t believe you, I just want to have all the facts before we come up with a plan. Okay?” Anxiously he ran a hand over his jaw and waited for Danny to come forward with the details.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](http://mycoven.net/index.php?seite=display&img=i468bgsh1s)   
> 
> 
> [LINK TO FULL SIZE 1280x593](http://mycoven.net/uploads/2017/12/i467b2829e.jpg)

"Danny, please tell me what happened that night. I know it's not an easy task and I know all you wanna do is forget about it. Obviously, that’s not workin’ anymore, so, please…talk to me." Steve spoke in a calm, soft voice. He feared if he pushed too hard on this, Danny would retreat into his shell.

 _"Do you ever talk about it?"_ Danny signed suddenly.

Steve furrowed his brows, "About what?"

_"About what they did to you in Tanzania, in the death camp. Unlike me, you remember all the…horrible little details. How are you holding up? Don't you wish you could just…forget it ever happened?"_

Steve pressed his lips together and shook his head. "I have good days and bad days," he cleared his throat as his voice tried to betray him. "I have nights I can't get to sleep, and I wander around in my apartment. Sometimes, I have to…leave a light on because in the dark…I feel like my friends are there waiting to-to drag me back to that place, so I can…die like they did. Not too long after I got back stateside, I was institutionalized in a psychiatric ward. They called it rehab in the news. They declared me a hero, but I guess a hero stuck in a loony bin isn’t good PR. I was under some pretty heavy medication those first few months, and I swear I hated it. Lookin’ back, though, I tend to think the docs made the right call. I was physically and emotionally unstable. I lashed out at anybody who crossed my path in that place. Something inside of me…died in Tanzania…right along with my teammates." Steve took in a sharp breath and licked his lips, staring down at his hands and shocked to find them clenched so tightly, his knuckles had turned white.

He looked back up to Danny as tears shone in his eyes, and his voice trembled as he spoke. "A part of me wants to forget about what happened in that hellhole, but…that would mean…forgetting the guys who died, my teammates, my…my brothers. And I don't want to do that."

 _"I’m sorry I asked, Steve. I didn't want to remind you of the pain,"_ Danny signed, angry at himself with bringing up Steve's past. _"After what you've been through, my story sounds so trivial. I almost understand the officers that…"_

"Danny, stop right here," Steve interrupted him. "There is no need to apologize. You have every right to ask because you should know who you’re dealing with. The file you read is only half the truth and says nothing about who I am as a human being. It describes the ex-navy-SEAL poster boy, someone without flaws or personal issues. But, look, this isn’t about me. So please…go on."

_"I already told you about Matty and-and how his death affected me, but…that wasn’t the day that truly changed me. That day came when...I was invited to a birthday party of a friend of mine, whose birthday is on the same day as Matty’s. There were about 15 or 20 of us, and we all ended up in this place called Mystique, a small club in Hell's Kitchen. Most of the time, I was on the dance floor because I didn't want to listen to their shared memories of my brother. Dancing had always been my getaway, and eventually, all the faces and names just kinda started to…to run together, so I just danced and laughed as much as I could. For a little while at least, the emptiness I felt for the majority of that evening was pushed back.”_

Danny paused in his hand movements to give himself a chance to breathe. Even though he wasn’t speaking, his lungs felt as though he’d just given a full-length classroom lecture. Even Steve took a few deep breaths at the pause, waiting patiently for his client to continue.

 _“Two or three hours later, I stumbled against the rough brick wall in a darker part of the club. I couldn’t catch my breath, and my head felt like it was gonna explode. Even when I closed my eyes, it seemed like there was a laser show happening behind my eyelids. Everything kinda swirled together, the noises, the lights, the people. I tried to keep my focus enough to…to get outta there, but that was a bad idea. Everything became a blur, and then I got so nauseous, I almost threw everything up right there in the club. I immediately knew that something was wrong, terribly wrong. I didn't have more than two or three drinks the whole evening. I shouldn't have felt that way. My tolerance level was much higher. And then it hit me; someone must have spiked my drink. I desperately tried to cling to the last little bit of clarity I had, but…whatever I was drugged with… All I wanted to do was slide down that fucking wall and sleep."_ Danny paused again to let out a few more deep breaths, but when Steve didn’t speak, he kept on signing.

 _"I was fighting just to keep my eyes open at that point when someone came along and asked me if I needed some help. I thought the voice sounded somewhat familiar. I felt like I knew it. I figured it could've been one of my friends, or at least someone I trusted. I couldn’t speak clearly, nevermind getting my limbs to work like they should enough to get myself outta there and into the closest cab, I could find to bring me home. I remember stumbling and almost falling, but the person caught me. I…I almost threw up on their shoes,”_ he signed with a sardonic smirk, feeling tears begin to burn at the corners of his eyes, _"I wanted nothing more than to get out of that damn club and sleep this off in my bed. I must have passed out a little because the next thing I remember is that I was in a strange car, lying in the backseat, being driven by my…savior from the club. I wanted to take a look out of the window, to at least try and figure out where we were going, but I couldn’t…. My body wouldn’t… It was easier to go back to sleep."_

His hands stopped of their own accord this time, and Steve tentatively reached over to touch his knee. “You didn’t give up, Danny,” he said knowingly, “You were drugged. You weren’t in control, and your attacker was counting on that.” Danny let out a shaky breath, finding Steve’s touch both grounding and comforting. He could already see that Steve absolutely believed him, and that alone gave him the courage to continue.

_“The next morning when I woke up, I couldn’t remember a damn thing past leaving that club, Steve. Everything hurt, even my hair. I looked at the alarm clock, and it was almost noon. I hadn't slept that long in ages. The air conditioner kicked on, sending a breeze of cool air brushing against my sweaty and…naked body. That was when I became aware that… I shot up, and it was like somebody had shoved a branding iron up my ass. I know it sounds odd, but that’s the only way to describe it. I tried to remember how I got home, how I got undressed, how I…ended up in my bed. That’s when I noticed a neatly folded pile of clothes in front of my bed. It was…the clothes I’d worn the night before. There was no way I would've done that, or even could’ve in the state I remembered being in before everything went black. I swear it felt like a ghost had run his fingers down my back, as hard as I shivered when I saw those clothes like that. I slipped into a pair of jeans, fetched the baseball bat from the walk-in closet, and started searching the house. It was like I could feel the guy's presence like he was still in the house. I went to check the front door, prepared to lock it, only…it was already locked. I stumbled back to the doors leading to the backyard and the patio. Guess what? They were all locked, too. Whoever did this pulled a Houdini and managed to leave my place through locked doors. My parents have a spare key, but they live in Canada during the winter, and my keys were at their place. And as if this wasn't already enough to drive me insane, I got this."_

Danny pulled his phone from his back pocket and thumbed through the gallery. When he found what he had been looking for, he handed it to Steve.

The text said, "God, you are so beautiful when you're asleep." The attached picture showed a naked Danny sprawled on the bed, face down.

When Steve looked up from the phone, Danny had put his glasses aside and pulled his legs as tightly as possible to his chest. His entire body shook, teeth chattering.

"Danny?" Steve asked alarmed and got no response. Within the blink of an eye, he crouched next to his client, not sure what to do now. It was obvious that the blonde didn't want to move from the tight ball he had curled himself into.

Carefully, Steve reached out and touched Danny's tense shoulder. He expected a defensive response, but nothing happened. Instead, Danny’s shoulders sagged minutely, and his breath exhaled with a shudder.

When Danny felt the warmth of Steve's hand seeping through his tee, he became aware of the taller man's presence. The former SEAL had an air of security about him, a solid core of strength. He felt steady, reliable. This made Danny feel safe, and he stirred, his eyes slowly focusing on Steve’s face.

Steve caught the slight movement, "It's okay, buddy. I'm here. I'm here for you now, and I promise that this sick bastard won't hurt you again." He stroked the smaller man's back in slow circles, watching the man’s face for any sign at all that his touch was unwanted. After what had happened to him, Steve was no longer surprised by the professor’s brusque nature. Hell, Steve didn’t blame him a bit. But that wasn't the case. Instead, Danny was slowly relaxing into his touch. Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around Steve and buried his face in his neck where he started to sob uncontrollably.

Before he lost balance, Steve managed to move into a sitting position with his back against the wing chair. This position wasn't comfortable, but he didn’t dare move since it was obvious Danny needed the contact. It was the first time since his return from Tanzania that another person that wasn't a nurse or a doctor was that close to him. Surprisingly, it didn't make him feel uncomfortable. Danny still clung to him as Steve buried his face in the tousled blond hair that was usually slicked back, whispering soothing shushing noises and words of comfort.

He continued to rock Danny, trying to absorb his pain and cursing himself for causing it because he'd insisted on knowing the details. Slowly, Danny's body relaxed, and his breathing became more even. Steve leaned back to study Danny's face, but he refused to meet his eyes. He lifted his chin with his forefinger until their gazes met. The haunted look was gone, but his beautiful blue eyes were red-rimmed, and his lashes wet. God, this man was gorgeous, even after a bout of crying. Deep down inside Steve knew that these feelings were wrong. Getting involved with a client was not an option. He had to focus, dammit.

Steve pushed a strand of blonde hair from Danny's forehead. His voice sounded a notch deeper than usual when he softly said, "Feeling better?"

Danny wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, nodded jerkily, then signed, _"Thank you."_

"Sure you want to thank me and not punch me?"

Danny scrunched his face at Steve's teasing voice. _"Why would I do that?"_

"Because I pushed you into…telling me what happened to you. I guess I didn’t…think it would be anything like what actually happened to you. It wasn't my intention to hurt you, Danny. I had no idea what these memories would do to you. I mean, I above all should’ve known better. Maybe I’m not the right person for this job, maybe you should…"

Danny silenced him by putting his right forefinger on Steve's lips while slightly shaking his head. The touch felt like an electric jolt that rushed through his body and landed in his groin. As Danny was practically sitting on Steve's lap, he felt the taller man's reaction and gave him a knowing smile.

" _Enough!_ " Steve's inner voice yelled and tore him out of what was fast approaching his most awkward moment in recent memory. He was on his feet in an instant, practically dumping Danny on the floor, but the blonde man caught himself on the arm of the chair.

"I think we should leave it at that."

 _"But I haven't told you the whole story,"_ Danny started to sign erratically, his nerves once again ratcheting up.

"What? You mean there’s more? What else could’ve happened…?" Steve was almost scared of Danny's answer.

_"He forced me to watch his sick games, Steven."_

"What games?"

_"He takes young boys from the street or clubs, kids or young men that nobody will miss. He takes them home with him and then he tortures and rapes them. He says that's what he is going to do to me next time we meet. He also wanted me to jerk off while he kept on…and when I refused, he cut off an ear of one of his victims. You have to believe me when I tell you I didn't want to do it, and that I hated myself for obeying this sick piece of crap. But every time I didn't, the boys had to pay the price. And today, when I said I had enough of his games and he should go and find someone new, he cut the boy’s throat."_

Steve's eyes widened in disbelief, "Are you sure he killed him? Don't you think it could have been staged? I mean…"

 _"I have no fucking clue if it was staged. To me it looked real, all of it."_ Danny moved his hands with the speed of light, so it seemed. Steve did his best to follow the movements. His client was already upset. No need to push him further over the edge by behaving like a moron and treating Danny like he was an idiot.

"Did you tell the police about it?" Steve used the chance to ask when Danny stopped signing for a moment.

Danny rolled his eyes, _"Are you nuts? Do you really think they would've believed a single word when they doubted I had been raped in the first place?"_

Steve lifted his hands, "Okay, Danny, okay. Calm down. I have to ask you these questions. I need to know what we’re dealing with."

 _"We are dealing with a fucking lunatic who decided to stalk me and make me his prey. And as if that wasn't enough, he made me his accomplice. And he made screen caps of our "sessions" and sent them to me. Unlike me, he recorded this shit."_ Danny's hands curled into fists when he was done signing.

A spark of hope showed on Steve's face. "Do you still have those pictures? Are they digital? If so, maybe he was careless enough to leave some sort of trail?"

 _"You mean like breadcrumbs or footprints?"_ Danny shook his head, _"I've checked and double-checked. There is nothing we could use, zilch."_

"I don't know about your hacking skills, but I have a good friend of mine who's a fucking genius and who could really be a big help to us…if you agree to let him on board." Steve rubbed his stubbly chin, "On another note, did you mention anything to my boss, SSA Price?"

 _"Of course. The police didn’t believe me, but since I am apparently a sucker for humiliation, I had a sit-down with the suits or the men in black or secret squirrels or whatever you might call them."_ Danny stopped his motions when a faint smile occurred on Steve's lips. _"What?"_ he signed.

Steve shrugged, "Nothing. It's just…I could watch you sign all day. You’re cute when you’re angry."

_"Cute? Seriously, cute? You go for cute? I bet you won’t think I’m that cute when I punch you in the gut."_

Danny pretended to make a move.

"Nice try," Steve countered and caught Danny's hand midair where he held it in place, "Believe me, you don't wanna do that. You don't want to sucker-punch your bodyguard. Who would take care of you when I'm out?"

Danny's smile faltered. Steve immediately let go of the hand which was a huge mistake as the blonde guy landed a playful punch on Steve's chest.

 _"Gotcha,"_ Danny signed and winked at him.

"Danny Williams, if I were Superman I would call you my kryptonite," Steve stated dryly.

And that wasn't even a lie. It worried Steve that the smaller man's presence could throw him off his game so easily. In the past few hours, Steve had let down his guard more than once. He wasn't sure if Danny had detected it or not. However, this was something that had to stop if he didn't want both of them ending up in body bags. From his current point of view, the Russians were now the least of their problems.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](http://mycoven.net/index.php?seite=display&img=i478bv7n23)   
> 

It was late Sunday morning. Danny glared at Steve, who was glaring right back at him from across the dining room table. Between them sat a pad of paper. Steve had been up all night to work out a concept to secure Danny's home. He also wanted the names of Danny's friends who were with him on the night the rape had happened. 

The morning had started off as promising. Danny had joined him for breakfast but not without an ulterior motive. The professor really enjoyed the sight. Steve's broad back, the narrow waist: this guy must be doing a thousand sit-ups. ' _And, definitely a thousand more squats,'_ Danny thought as he dropped his gaze to Steve's perfect-shaped ass. He shuddered, and his mind took on a life of its own. Why couldn't he be the recipient of all that strength? His cock twitched and started filling with blood. Danny turned his attention back to the food in front of him and started to slice bell peppers as though his life depended on it. He cursed himself for not keeping his body under control. It wasn't like Steve didn't show any interest in him. So far, there had been some glances of interest, every now and then, but they were not anything close to the attention that Danny was willing to give to his bodyguard. 

Amused, Steve watched the professor from the corner of his eye. The bulge in his jeans was clearly visible. 

When Danny almost cut his finger, he heard Steve's soft chuckle behind his back. He threw a gaze over his shoulder, and another shudder wracked his frame; the flush covering the blond from head to toe was way hotter than the skillet on the stove. 

That was then. Now it seemed that the temperature in the room had dropped a few degrees. Why in the world did Steve have to come up with the security details and those stupid questions about his friends? True, the night, and everything related to it was still a blur. Nevertheless, none of the people who had been with him would ever hurt him. 

As Danny could no longer stand the silence, he gave in and signed, _"Don't be mad. I appreciate you came up with the idea to change the locks. I should've thought about it myself, after… you know."_ He paused, swallowed hard, and then kept on signing. _"But video surveillance, motion detectors inside and outside the house…I wonder what's next? An electrified barb-wire fence? Gimme a break. I agreed to get a bodyguard. I didn't admit to becoming part of "Big Brother" season 911."_ He got up and started pacing around. 

Steve's voice was calm as he spoke, "Danny, please. This is all for your protection. We don't have a clue who we are dealing with. And, I asked for the name of your friends so we could run a background check on them. Don't worry. We'll handle this discreetly." 

Danny held on to the backrest of the chair with both hands until his knuckles went white. He gave the chair a hard push into the table. His eyes reflected his anguish. With a groan, he clasped his hands behind his head and tilted his head back with his eyes closed and his mouth twisted as though in pain and frustration. After a moment, his shoulders sagged in defeat. 

 _"I don't get it,"_ he signed. _"I really don't. I am the victim in this fucking nightmare. So, why the hell are you turning me into a fucking prisoner?"_  

Cursing himself, Steve got up and succumbed to the urge to close the distance between them and to put his hand on Danny's shoulder. He gently squeezed and felt Danny's strong, tense muscles wrapped around a slender, delicate shoulder. He wanted his hand to linger but thought it would be inappropriate and let go. 

"I don't want to take away your privacy or freedom, Danny. I only want to make sure you are safe until we catch this lunatic. When everything is over, you can remove whatever items are bothering you." 

Danny felt the warmth slip from his body as soon as Steve broke their contact. ' _Why couldn't you hold me forever?'_ he thought. 

Steve saw the tears that stung Danny's eyes when he lifted his head to meet the bodyguard's gaze. 

 _"Will this ever be over?"_ he signed, closed his eyes and felt the liquid warmth of a single tear rolling down his cheek. 

Danny startled when he felt Steve's tender touch as he thumbed the tear away and drew him into an embrace. His breath ghosted over the smaller man's forehead as he spoke, "I promise you, I will do everything I can to catch the bastard that is targeting you." 

Suddenly, Danny panicked. He broke the embrace, scared to lose himself in Steve's arms if he held on for too long. 

It was like Steve woke from a daydream. Only now did he realize what he had just done. These feelings that he had for his client were a real problem. The more he got involved with him, the more he risked losing control…not just over his mind or his body, no, but over the whole damn situation. As a bodyguard, he was supposed to stay alert 24/7. Even the slightest distraction could endanger the life of his client and his own. 

Both stood there, in the middle of the room, while an awkward silence filled the air. Again, it was Danny who put them out of their misery.

Steve had no clue how much effort it took him to not just throw the bigger man to the ground and make love to him, here and now. 

 _"Okay, fine. You win,"_ Danny signed and flopped onto the couch one foot dangling over the armrest. He gave Steve a cocky grin before he went on, _"So, what will it be? Locks, cameras, sirens, German shepherds, falcons, probably sharks? You know we could dig a moat and fill it with salt water…."_  

"Stop it, Daniel, would you? I think we can hold off on the zoo and the moat. Will help you save some money. And, I think a backhoe in your garden would draw more unwanted attention than we already have." 

Danny's head popped up, and his jaw dropped. _"Wait, was this a joke? Did you really crack a joke?"_ he signed. 

Steve's cheeks turned bright red under Danny's gaze. He felt like an idiot. However, it was also an improvement because his client's face was now all smiles, and the gloomy thoughts seemed to have vanished into thin air. 

Steve took out his phone and said, "Listen, I have to make some calls to get the security system up and running. The locks are something I can fix, but I am not a tech wizard." 

 _"Well, you disarmed a bomb and saved my sassy ass,"_ Danny signed all smiles. 

"Yeah, but that is a whole different animal. So, if you have anything to do, like checking emails or whatever, now might be a good time." 

Danny pouted, _"Are you throwing me out of my living room?"_  

Steve shrugged, "I also have to have some confidential talks with the bureau if you don't mind." 

Danny dismissed him, _"Do whatever you need to do. I have some work to do too. When you're done, you can find me in my office."_  

With that, Danny left the room. 

Steve slowly exhaled. Well, it wouldn't have been necessary for the professor to leave the room. But the tension that had been building since their embrace and the following conversation along with the clearly visible outlines of his cock straining against the fabric made it not easy to concentrate on anything but Danny Williams. Steve had been hiding behind the wing chair for most of the time and feared Danny would become aware of his "condition." At best, he would've hurried to the bathroom to get some relief. However, that wasn't an option as he had to take care of Danny's safety. What the hell had he gotten himself into? He was on the way to throw all his rules overboard in order to throw himself, instead, into Danny's arms. 

While Steve was on the phone, Danny checked his emails and came across an invitation he'd forgotten entirely. It was a gala dinner where he and other scientists were supposed to receive an award for outstanding achievement for the development of a microchip that enhanced the performance of a module for a new generation of maps. These were based on the successful combination of satellite data with cartographic information as well as a holographic display. 

Panic rose in him. Under no circumstances could he cancel this invitation. What should he do? Call in sick? Well, yes, that would do it. He could also forget about security issues. People from NASA were there, as well as highly decorated generals, politicians, foreign diplomats, and a bunch of other people who were far more important than him. He wouldn't be safer in any other place in the world. 

Before he shocked Steve with this news, and Danny had no doubt it would shock him, he checked the rest of his emails. 

Ten minutes later, he returned to the living room. His bodyguard was still on the phone. When Danny signed they had to talk, Steve lifted a finger and mouthed, "One minute." 

Steve ended the call as promised and turned his attention to Danny, "We will set up everything by tomorrow. Guess it'll take no longer than two or three days." 

When Danny scrunched his nose, Steve asked, "Are you okay? Was there something in your emails you want to show me? Did this son of a bitch…" 

Danny cut him short, _"Yes, there was something in my emails. But it had nothing to do with…you know. Do you own a tux or a decent suit?"_  

Steve furrowed his brows, "Did you just ask me if I own a tux?" 

 _"Yes, because you will need one tonight when I get this science award. There's a dress code. And…"_  

"Danny, what the fuck are you talking about? Are you nuts? You have a target on your back. You can't attend…" 

Danny glared at him, once more, this day, _"Listen, I fucking know that I have a fucking bulls-eye on my back, but I can't miss out on this event. It is something like a lifetime achievement for me. I put years of hard work into it. The premises will be more than safe. Parts of the military staff will be there, guys from the NASA, politicians, and many other people who make a way better target than me. I have to go; I want to go."_  

Steve grinded his teeth. Such a public event could easily turn into a bodyguard's nightmare. On the other hand, Danny was right about the safety of this location. There would be, for sure, plenty of security staff around. 

Danny snapped his fingers and stirred Steve from his thoughts. 

 _"There aren't many possibilities,"_ he signed. _"You are either in or out."_ He held his breath, waiting for Steve to argue. 

Instead, Steve replied, "Consider me in. When are we due to leave?" 

Danny gave him a surprised look. 

"What?" Steve wanted to know. "You said it yourself. There will be enough security around. Nevertheless, I am going to stick to you like glue." He winked at him, a boyish grin on his face. 

 _"Thank you,"_ was all Danny could muster. He was too stunned by Steve's sudden change of heart because he'd expected a heated discussion about that matter. 

The discussion would become heated later when they were arguing over which car they were taking. Danny refused to let Steve drive that monstrous black SUV from the bureau. 

 _"This is ridiculous,"_ Danny signed erratically, _"the car with the bulletproof glass and front grill guard makes me look like a drug lord. We are taking my car."_  

Then, after fighting about which car they were taking, they were fighting over who was driving. Danny wasn't happy about being stuck in the passenger's seat at all, but Steve argued that he was for sure the more experienced driver if someone decided to take out a hit on them, and reminded Danny that he'd agreed to take the Camaro. 

"This is not negotiable. The bureau is giving me a hard time as we were supposed to drive in the SUV," Steve snapped. "Along with the fact that they declared me nuts when I told them about the event. Usually, we need days for preparing and not just hours. However, Price made a few calls and seemed to be, more or less, satisfied with the location and the security settings in general. Now, hand me the damned keys, will ya?" 

 _"Like I have a choice,"_ Danny signed and dropped the keys in Steve's hand. He could not remember having ever ridden shotgun in his own car. It felt awkward, though he had to admit that this also provided him with some pleasantries. 

He was able to devour the good-looking guy behind the wheel while the blood drained from his brain in an all-out race to his cock. Unfortunately, it seemed that Steve wasn't as much interested in him, a fact that spurred him on. He was willing to try everything to break down the wall that Steve built up every time they got close to each other. 

Most of the time, Steve wore this hard I-can-kick-your-ass frown, and he held his body as he remained on permanent high alert. However, when his voice dipped enough to let in a bit of humor, and he gave him this boyish grin, Danny turned into a castaway lost in a sea of love. 

With great effort, he shifted his gaze away and pretended to look at the traffic ahead of them. Both weren't up for much talking, and the closer they got to the mansion where the event was held, the more Danny started doubting he'd been making the right decision. Was he ready to face such a huge crowd after all the time he'd been living like a hermit?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](http://mycoven.net/index.php?seite=display&img=i485baxi3x)  
> 

A large hand gently squeezed Danny's shoulder. It was only when he slightly lifted his head to meet Steve's gaze that he realized he'd stopped walking. 

"Danny, what's the matter with you? Are you okay?" 

The professor shook his head as he cleared his throat. The panic rose, made his skin crawl. The world around him started to swirl, and he broke out in a cold sweat. Steve's hand tightened on his shoulder to support him, to show him he was there. He would have his back no matter what. Danny closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. 

"Keep walking, keep walking," he told himself, mantra-like, until his feet started to move. Though it was just a few steps to the wide open entrance door, it felt like he was climbing a mountain. Steve was right on his heel. Danny thought he could feel the heat emanating from the taller man's body. At best, he would have taken Steve's hand and never let go of it. He was no longer a little boy though he had felt that way since their arrival. 

Steve felt the tension in Danny's every move, but he hoped that his touch had made it clear to his friend that he was there for him. Anyone who was walking behind them could see that they were moving in perfect sync. Steve had scanned the area several times, but the security level was so high that he doubted the stalker would risk a hit under the given circumstances. Nevertheless, Steve would not make a mistake and underestimate this guy. He was determined and, unlike Steve, he had to focus on only one person. 

McGarrett wasn't fond of such big events. They always bore the unknown risks, and a stalker was as unpredictable as a suicide bomber. Steve blew out a breath and adjusted his tie. 

Danny showed his invitations to the bouncer at the door. The guy was dressed in a tux that seemed to be at least two numbers too small. 

"He's either wearing his little brother's suit or had too many steroids for breakfast," Steve whispered into Danny's ear.

The blond gave a soft chuckle in return, and a bit of the tension was gone. "Mission partly accomplished," Steve thought. He immediately dropped back into bodyguard mode as soon as two elder looking men approached them. A short glance at Danny's face assured him that the professor knew these guys, and he relaxed. 

"Professor Williams, what an honor to have you here tonight," the man on the left said. 

 _"Thank you for the invitation, Dr. Dern,"_ Danny signed. _"It is an honor and a pleasure to be part of this ceremony. Also, thank you for the opportunity to participate in this project in the first place."_

Poor Dr. Dern was apparently not capable of sign language as his reaction was a bit confused. Steve was happy to jump in and translated for Danny. 

They started a little conversation about a new thesis Dern was currently working on. The guy in Dern's tow was Dr. Stein from Germany; he was working on several projects for the NASA. By that time, a small crowd had gathered around the four men. Some people were fascinated by Danny and Steve's symbiosis. They didn't just make a cute couple. The small crowd was also impressed by how fluently Steve translated for Danny. 

About 10 minutes later, a young woman in a crimson red velvet evening gown was mingling with the crowd. Smiling, she linked her arm with Danny's to lead him down the hall to the podium. As far as Steve could see, they used the same procedure for all the award winners. He had counted five so far. Some of the other bodyguards were already in position, so it wasn't hard for Steve to find his place. He wasn't comfortable with it: in his opinion, he was too far away from his client. He took a look around. Well, there were enough grim faces to scare any baddie away, at least for the duration of the ceremony. 

The laudations were peppered with insider science jokes. Steve was sure that most of the people only laughed so as not to look stupid or to be polite. The security details hardly twitched. When it was Danny's turn to take the stage, Steve's heart pounded wildly in his chest, and his cock twitched to the same rhythm. He and Danny had only known each other for a few days, but it seemed that they'd spent a lifetime together. McGarrett was concerned about how they would handle Danny's issue. 

But there was no need: one of the girls in red was already at his side to translate for the professor. Danny's speech was more down-to-earth than those of the previous speakers. He talked about the hours of work he'd put in this project, the ups and downs, and how awesome it was to have all those great minds on board, so they were able to unite their recourses. Then he thanked the numerous sponsors and investors who never hesitated to support the entire project from the idea to the development of the prototype.

Danny earned standing ovations for his speech. Steve had to bite his tongue not to yell out loud, "MY BOY, MY BOY!" He was so proud of the little whirlwind he could not tell. 

After everyone left the stage and the official part of the ceremony was over, Steve couldn't get to the professor fast enough. He found Danny talking to his translator. Her name was Jamie. 

"Excuse us, Jamie," Steve said as he grabbed the professor's upper arm and shoved him behind the curtains into a niche, then he pulled Danny close and their mouths fused into a passionate kiss. Danny responded with an ardor that scorched Steve to the core. The kiss went from intimate to incendiary in a few mind-blowing moments.  "How long do we have to stay?" Steve asked hoarsely when he finally tore his mouth from Danny's. The blond stared at him in disbelief and blinked several times. 

"Danny?" He shook him gently. "Danny, are you okay?"

 _"I've never felt any better,"_ the blond signed eventually. Seconds ticked by until he finished, _"Fuck the buffet, and let's go home."_

They rounded the corner and almost bumped into a guy who was headed in their direction. 

"Well, look at you, Danno. And, um...who are you?" 

The voice alone made Danny cringe. Steve immediately sensed that something was wrong and a look at his friend proved him right. 

Danny stared at the man opposite him like he'd seen a ghost. The guy was about Steve's height, had dark wavy hair, a bit greasy, and wore a tux that had seen better days for sure. 

"To put it plainly, you guys look freshly fucked," he cackled. 

Danny tore his hand free from Steve and flipped the guy off. 

"How rude, Daniel. We haven't seen each other for how long? Eight months? And this is what I get? Your finger? Darling, you used to give me so much more. Is there really nothing left for… " 

Steve caught Danny's hand mid-air, "Don't! Whoever this is he is not worth it." 

The guy gave them an amused look in return, "Nice, I see you got yourself a new sex toy. Is he as promising as he looks." The man darted out his tongue and licked his lips provocatively. "When you get bored you can send him over to my place. I would love to tame this beast." 

Steve still held Danny's arm. "Excuse us, sir, we were on our way out." 

The guy didn't move an inch. "My name is Adrian, Adrian Bowden from Bowden Industries. Pleased to meet you, Mr...?" 

"Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett. You can call me Commander and now excuse us," Steve snapped. 

When Adrian didn't react, Steve gave him his death stare and said, "Sir?!" 

The trio got more and more unwanted attention. That wasn't good at all. Steve would've loved nothing more than to knock the guy out, but that would have caused a lot of said unwanted attention and included the risk of losing his assignment. 

It was Jamie who came to their rescue by spilling a glass of champagne over the guy's suit.

 "I am sorry, sir. I am so sorry, how clumsy of me." She then grabbed a napkin from the table behind him and quickly wiped away the spillage while she stood between Adrian and the two men. It gave them enough room to leave. 

They hurried outside as fast as they could while Steve dropped excuses in their names in different directions. As soon as they were on the flight of stairs, Steve skittered to a halt. "You owe me an explanation. Who the hell was that? I saw your reaction, Danny. Could he be your stalker?" 

Danny shook his head and pushed the award into Steve's hand, so he had both hands free to sign. _"Nope, he's harmless. Just an annoying piece of crap. But I had no idea he would show up here. Otherwise, I would…"_  

"Who is this bozo?" Steve demanded. 

Danny ran one hand through his hair before he kept on signing, _"Adrian is my ex. We were together for a year or so. It was nothing serious, and we separated before this…this happened to me. Is he capable of being an asshole? Absolutely! Is he capable of stalking me? Probably. But he is definitely not a cold-blooded killer. No way. He's getting sick if he sees a drop of blood on TV."_

"Think, Danny. He could've hired someone. Why didn't you tell me about him earlier? He could still hold a grudge against you." 

Danny shook his head, _"I highly doubt that."_

"How could you be so sure? Do you have an idea…?" 

_"He was the one who left, Steven. He kicked me out of his life from one day to another. Okay? So why should he be stalking me now for fuck's sake?"_

"Oh," was all that Steve could muster in surprise. 

 _"Yes. . . Oh. Can we drive home? I'd say I've had enough action for today and would appreciate if you stop going all Guantanamo on me. Now gimme the fucking award and get the car."_ Danny held out his hand. 

Steve swallowed and returned the crystal ball to the professor. They walked down the stairs in silence. 

On his way to get the car, Steve cursed himself for being such an idiot. Whatever happened between him and Danny behind the stage, the magic was gone. And it was entirely his fault. He'd let down his guard completely because the moment he'd learned about Adrian being Danny's ex, his professionalism went poof and turned into full-blown jealousy. Steve couldn't remember the last time he'd felt that way. At best he would've kicked himself in the butt. He had to get back into bodyguard mode otherwise he'd endanger his client's life. It was impossible to protect someone he was in love with. Maybe he should ask Price to be replaced by another agent. Dammit, he was way too emotional. 

Thank god, Danny wasn't in a talkative mood either. Steve had feared that the professor would use his app to bombard him with questions about his awkward behavior. Probably that would follow as soon as they were back at home. Steve didn't expect Danny to suffer sudden amnesia concerning their scorching backstage kiss. He took an absent look into the rearview mirror. Everything seemed to be OK. Their backup covered their ground. Nevertheless, Steve felt a certain unease. His gut instinct was in an uproar and should prove him right. 

After spending half an hour, they drove down a steep, windy road when the car suddenly accelerated. From the corner of his eye, Steve could see Danny's questioning look. McGarrett tried everything to get the car back under control, in vain. The brakes were also failing. 

"Buckle up!" Steve yelled as a cold sweat broke through every pore of his body. It was a crazy thought, but it felt like someone else had taken control of the vehicle. The bodyguard desperately tried to regain control but succumbed to a bystander as he pumped the brake pedal once before the front right wheel rumbled over the shoulder and the steering wheel went loose under his hands. 

They went airborne. Danny drew in a sharp breath; Steve snapped off the ignition and had only a heartbeat to meet his co-driver's wild-eyed stare. 

The shoulder strap yanked the bodyguard's breath away. To his surprise, the airbags didn't go off, and his face slammed into the steering wheel. Danny let out a muffled "Ugh." The windshield shattered; Steve saw a flashing patch of blue sky out his side window, and then the ground rushed up at tremendous speed outside Danny's, and, on instinct, he pulled the smaller man across his seat. Suddenly, they were upside-down; the roof crumpled down flat near the headrests, and Steve braced against the ceiling with his elbow. The shoulder strap cut into his neck. "Fuck, this thing was designed to save you, not to cut your head off," he thought. They were rolling. Goddamn, wasn't this going to stop? And still, they turned, bouncing on the tires and shocks until they slammed into an old oak tree. It was over. 

Steve sat holding his head for a few moments. The smell of pine needles mixed with that of hot oil and gasoline. Holy mother of shit, he was still alive. He took a deep breath and instantly wished he hadn't as pain shot through his abdomen. But he ignored it and turned his attention to Danny. His head was down, and his face was partly hidden by strands of blond hair. Steve wanted to say his name, but it came out all wrong. Touching his mouth, he felt wet teeth, and his hand came away bloody. Danny didn't move. Panic rose in Steve. He touched the other man's face, leaving red streaks on the cheeks. He shook the professor gently, but nothing happened. He checked for a pulse in Danny's throat and found none. 

The ceiling was too close for Steve to see well, and the steering wheel was pressing against his legs, but he could move them. He lifted the door handle and pushed hard against it with his shoulder. The door creaked but didn't budge. Blood dripped from his mouth down his chest onto his lap. Steve began to fumble for his seat belt. No chance this thing was going to open. He fumbled for his pocket knife and was able to get it out of his trouser pocket. Every muscle in his body was screaming as he cut himself loose and started to throw himself against the driver's door again and again. He couldn't remember how long it took him; it felt like ages. As the door finally opened, he fell to the ground and would've loved to stay there. However, his friend's life was in danger, so that wasn't an option. With superhuman strength, Steve dragged himself to his feet, then half walked, half staggered around the car to free Danny. Another endless minute ticked by before he was able to slice through the material to release Danny from the seat belt and pull him through the shattered side window. 

Danny's head lolled back as Steve carried the small, limbless body to more even ground where he could lay Danny down and start to resuscitate him. 

"You're not going to die on me Danny Williams, you hear me!" Steve hollered out while the heels of his palms pressed down hard on his rib cage. "You're not dying on me." Then he pinched Danny's nostrils, took a deep breath, and exhaled with all the energy that he had in his mouth. Later, he couldn't remember how often he'd repeated the procedure. He only remembered the wailing of sirens and watching some of his colleagues stumbling out of the woods, telling him that he'd done a great job and that Danny was alive before darkness was closing in and the last of the lights went out.


End file.
